


The Cost of Kindness

by candiedconstellations



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Blackwatch, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Romance, Slow Burn, Uprising, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:14:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 60,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8879059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candiedconstellations/pseuds/candiedconstellations
Summary: Dr. Angela Ziegler has dedicated her life for the sake of others. She will save as many people as possible, using whatever means necessary. But if she continually gives and never takes, how much of herself will be left? Such selflessness has a price. It will cost her her health, her love, or even her life. These are the risks. These are what she is willing to pay.





	1. Chapter 1

Mercy. That’s what she was known for. She was the person who has had hundreds of people kneel at her feet, begging to be saved from the massacre around them. Friend and Foe alike have had their share of being under her judgment. Angela Ziegler has always been a believer of second chances. If an enemy was lying near death in front of her, whispering pleas for salvation, who was she to leave them there? Every life was important and it was her personal mission to save as many as she could.  
  
The Doctor let out a shuttered breath as she worked on the patient before her. There was plenty of blood spilling off the sides of the portable operating table that her and the other field medics had set up on the outskirts of a roaring battlefield. The rain of bullets heard in the distance didn’t bother her anymore; she kept inhuman focus on the life that was flickering in front of her. Her bloodied gloves pulled out the bullet she had been searching for in the soldier’s side.

His uneven gasping had concerned her the moment he was carried into the makeshift tent. She underwent immediate surgery as soon as he way placed in a lying position. The two other assisting medics were much too slow for her liking. When she asked for something, she needed it _that_ moment not five seconds after the fact. This man was dying for Christ’s sake!

After placing the crumpled bullet in the designated tin, Angela strode over to the corner of the tent in a calm yet hurried pace. Methodically shedding off her blood soaked gloves as she walked. She took a moment to stare at her most prized possession. Grabbing it gently in her slender fingers, willing it to save the man behind her. The Doctor let out another long breath to compose herself before turning around with her usual dignity. She held up her lifetime’s worth of research: the Caduceus Staff, and positioned herself in the proper stance before pulling the trigger on the underside of her masterpiece. A stream of golden light suddenly sprouted from the top of the staff, steadily healing the wounded man. She glanced at his vitals, which the staff could display, and watched as the red critical levels slowly disappeared. The Doctor allowed herself a small smile, a small ounce of visible satisfaction for a job well done. Dr. Zielger then looked up from the staff to survey the room, countless other men and women were lying wounded on the blanketed floor.

Her job was far from over.

Placing down the staff in its previous location, she quickly instructed the other medic on how to continue treatment for the man she just saved. Dr. Ziegler fluttered around the medical tent from patient to patient, from medic to medic. She provided hands-on treatments as well as soothing comfort to those who were severely injured. The Head of the Medical Research Department of Overwatch and the world’s best surgeon had not stopped working since the battle started three days ago.

She granted herself a moment to sit every six hours before inhaling another cup of coffee and getting back on her feet to start again. Dark circles were ever-present under her cobalt eyes, which she covered up with make-up to not scare her patients or worry her fellow teammates. They did not need to know that she had scheduled herself for both the morning and night shifts.

Even without her battle suit on, civilians and enemies knew her as Mercy, the Guardian Angel. Her call sign was fitting nowadays.

With only her reputation, she was able to bring comfort to many dying men and women. There were times when she wished she could have done more, but in the end, she had watched many people die both off and on the battlefield. Lying either on her operating table or in the dirt with only bullets surrounding them. She had decided long ago to help anyone whom required her assistance, no matter the cost. To spare them from the jaws of death. To show them mercy. The woman laughed softly to herself as her mind drifted to the first time someone had called her by that name. By the name of _Mercy_.

 

  
_She had finally finished development of the Valkyrie Swift Response Suit, taking it out of its case for inspection. Once she clasped the pearlescent armor and attached the jet-powered wings to her body, Dr. Angela Zielger was ready for her first ever flight test. Usually she would never wear something so form fitting. The doctor was use to hiding her figure under a starch lab coat, and always tried to keep a level of professionalism when on and off the clock. However for the sake of aerodynamics she agreed to the shapely armor. She jumped up into the air just to give her masterfully crafted appendages a small flutter, hovering for just a second before her feet touched the ground again. Ziegler nodded to herself before making her way to the roof of the medical building._

_She stood on the edge for a moment before glancing down. It was a rather large drop, about four stories down. Although, she came prepared. She had already gathered a few of her lab assistants on the ground level with an inflatable cushion in case something malfunctioned. A few other higher ups and team members joined them to see the newly recruited Doctor’s work in action. She had recalibrated these wings dozens of times before this test and even had Torbjon’s help for most of the suits functions. She was fairly confident in both of their abilities. With that final thought, she inhaled before taking a leap of faith off the edge of the building._

_She froze with fear, gravity relentlessly pulled on her body, dragging her back to the earth. She began to internally panic as the feeling of her stomach hitting her chest overtook her. The Doctor was always in control of every single situation she encountered. That’s how she got her medical degree at such a young age. That’s how she had been able to cure multiple diseases with her research. That’s how she was recognized by the most elite organization in the world. But here, she couldn’t control how fast she fell. She couldn’t even control her own emotions. The ground was coming closer and closer. She hastily released her wings from the resting position, allowing them to halt her decent. They extended outward to their true wingspan, which was approximately twice her height, as she floated gently to the padded cushion._

_She willed her heart to stop its excessive beating as she stood on solid ground once more. Her internal therapy was cut short when a petite brunette suddenly tackled her backwards onto the cushioned ground. The Doctor winced, hoping her wings weren’t damaged from the pressure of another body atop of her own._

_“That was brilliant, love!” was the first response she got once Ziegler found her bearings again. “You were absolutely blinding! Floatin’ down from the air like that.” The same woman gushed._

_“Thank you, Lena,” Ziegler replied once oxygen found its way back into her lungs._

_Winston had to practically pry the exuberant woman off the winded Doctor, muttering small words of congratulations to his fellow intellectual. Suddenly, the other people who watched her test surrounded her, all asking questions and talking amongst themselves about the revolutionary project._

_“She’s such an ace, ins’t she, Winston?” Tracer continued to talk about the Doctor, completely enthralled. “She’ll be like an Angel of Mercy on the battlefield! Isn’t that poetic?”_

_The Doctor excused herself from the noisy group to examine her position from the roof, calculating tweaks she could perform to her suit when a voice to her left caught her attention._

_“What happened up there?”_

_The woman glanced up to the taller man standing beside her. Blackwatch’s Commander was also looking up to the top of the medical building, acting as if he never uttered a word. She had only met him a month prior and hadn’t even spoken to the man since. The Commander hadn’t made a terrible first impression, but she could tell that he was fairly serious most of the time. By the look of his still present scowl, she changed her evaluation to ‘all of the time’. He had his hand shoved into his jacket’s pockets as he continued to stare upwards._

_“Excuse me?”_

_“You didn’t use your wings until you were half way down, what happened?” Reyes always seemed very curt, but she got a strange inkling that he was concerned about her suit malfunctioning. Probably because of how much money her research had cost the organization._

_“Human Error,” was her equally short reply._

_They stood in silence for a moment, both gazing up at the roof of the medical building. It wasn’t awkward in anyway. It was actually quite comfortable. Dr. Ziegler finally decided to break their pleasant silence._

_“I… I’ve always had a fear of falling. Basophobia. It is a fairly common fear, but in my case it does not connect to Acrophobia, the fear of heights.”_

_There was another silence. This one was not a comfortable one. It was full of nervous tension from revealing something so personal. Usually she wouldn’t be this open with a person she had just met, but there was something calming about the Commander’s presence. This time it was the Blackwatch Agent's turn to break the quietness._

_“You can’t force yourself to not be afraid. Fear is something we constantly fight with, much like death,” The Commander finally looked down to her, “You trust your intellect, right? That everything you’ve put into that suit is correct?”_

_Dr. Ziegler made eye contact with the Blackwatch Operative, a stubborn yet passionate glint in her azure eyes._

_“Without question.”_

_“Then that’s all you need to know.”_

_They stared at each other for a moment longer, the beginnings of mutual respect filled the space between them._

_“Hey, Mercy!” the bubbly woman’s voice rang, gaining the attention of both the Doctor and Commander. She was prancing over to the two, throwing her arms around the blonde once more._

_“Mercy? Are you referring to me?” Ziegler questioned, confusion overtaking her face._

_“Yeah! You’re gonna be on the field with us, right? Then you’ve gotta have a call sign!” the younger woman giggled, “You already know that mine is Tracer! Cool and wicked. Unlike someone who just uses their family name.” Tracer stuck her tongue out to the Commander who rolled his eyes in response. “So you’ve gotta have a nice one too!”_

_“Mercy…” the Doctor repeated, a gentle smile coming across her face, “I like it.”_

 

The sudden cry of a wounded Overwatch soldier brought the Doctor back to reality. Realizing that she had no time to reminisce about the past, she quickly went to the wash station and splashed lukewarm water on her face for a small wakeup call. After quickly reapplying her make-up, she swiftly walked to the small area littered with papers to write a quick report before the next patient comes barreling in.

“Mercy!” Dr. Ziegler’s head snaps up from the page in her hand, toward the voice shouting her code name.

She immediately recognizes the deep baritone timbre even before he barged into the medical tent, entry flaps flying up from the force. Every conscious person in the small room, if it could even be called a room, was suddenly at attention. Soldiers who could stand gave a salute to the Commander of Blackwatch, Gabriel Reyes, once he entered the tent. The young Doctor gave an annoyed glance to the higher up; he doesn’t even notice that her patients are straining themselves to give him their proper respects.

“Hello to you too, Commander.” She says curtly before walking over to the nearest soldier, quietly urging him to sit down.

This doctor had given the Commander trouble every since she joined the organization. She had always been stubborn, strong willed and lacking in respect for any and all military positions above her own, but damn was she good at healing people.

Reyes narrowed his eyes at her response. Letting his anger simmer internally for a moment before continuing, “We are planning on making a major push and need as many soldiers as we can get. How many are ready for battle operations?” His tone was sharp, filled with aggravation for both her and the way the battle was going. The man scanned around the room, looking for suitable subordinates.

Dr. Ziegler’s eyebrows knitted together at the request, facing the Commander. She was about to make another sassy remark before she looked over the taller male in front of her. He was visibly strong and built like a well-worn soldier. His stance was straight and disciplined. He commanded respect without even uttering a word. To anyone in the room he was his usual authoritative self, but under her trained eye she could tell that the days of fighting were wearing on him. His stance may be wide but he had his shoulders slumped forward, like a heavy weight was pressed upon him. She realized that she was not the only one who was tired of fighting. Her exhaustion was getting to her, thinning her patience and causing her to lash out at her Commander and admittedly one of the closest friends she owned. Although they bickered every chance they got, there was a sense of comradery between the two. The woman sighed as a small release of tension, deciding not to push the already agitated man.

“I have already sent you all of the able bodied soldiers I can,” she spoke gently, a sign that she was not in the mood for an argument.

He nodded once, understanding both her words and actions. “Then I’ll need you on the field,” he stated simply, “we are going in in thirty minutes. Be ready by then.” With that Reyes turned on his heel and strode out of the medical tent.

The Doctor opened her mouth to protest, but ultimately knew he was right. Although she would much rather stay in the tent and work on her patients away from the horrors of a warzone, she could prevent many more from ending up here if she were on the field with them.

Pushing her tiredness aside once again, she walked over to where her staff and battle suit lay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that there are not many fics in the Mercykill tag, so I decided to contribute! Please forgive me for any grammar mistakes or misspellings, writing is not my forte. Thank you for reading and I would appreciate any feedback you are willing to give!
> 
> (Shout-out to my friends for BETA reading and moral support!)


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of explosions and gunshots were much closer than she had thought. Dr. Ziegler had successfully transformed herself into Mercy, beacon of hope and compassion on the battlefield. Within the inner workings of her mind she had many switches that she could turn off and on. There was the switch that would keep her emotions at bay when she was staring at the blood and guts of another human being, seeing horrors beyond imagination. A Doctor. There was the switch that would allow her to be strong while she soothed a crying child, coping with the fact that they would never see their parents again. An Angel. Then there was the switch that would allow her to laugh and joke with her friends and cohorts, grabbing a bite or a drink after a long day’s work. Angela Ziegler, not a doctor, not an angel, just herself. Lately, she had barely switched on the latter.

A shouted command had brought her back to the battle at hand, “We are taking heavy fire! We need more backup on the frontlines!” Jack Morrison, Strike-Commander of Overwatch, continued to yell out his orders over the roar of gunfire.

Mercy hurriedly assisted a fallen soldier in the back lines, using her Valkyrie Suit to fly over to the man riddled with bullets. Breaking out into a sprint before pushing herself off the ground, letting the jet propelled wings carry her to the poor soul. She immediately aimed her Caduceus Staff at the soldier, healing him as quickly as he had been injured.

The main team of this mission was spread out throughout the battlefield. Lena Oxton, Call Sign: Tracer, was using her disability-now-gift to distract the Talon agents behind enemy lines; Contorting time and space in the blink of an eye. Wilhelm Reinhardt, Call Sign: Reinhardt, was leading the front lines. His shield taking massive damage, cracking from the heavy assault the enemy team was trying to pull. Right behind him was the Overwatch Strike-Commander, Call Sign: Morrison, laying down cover fire, trying to overwhelm the Talon Operatives. The Blackwatch Commander, Call Sign: Reyes, slid through the shadows of dark alleyways; sneaking around the enemy lines to take them out from behind. It was more his style to work alone, didn’t have to worry about someone giving away his position or shooting him in the back. High above them all, Ana Amari, Call sign: Ana, was positioned at the top of a nearby building; picking away opposing agents one at a time with the smooth pull of the trigger. These six Operatives, including Mercy, were the only ones with a high enough status to carry communicators on the battlefield. It made it easier with less people on the same channel, so they didn’t have to yell over each other in the midst of the battle.

With all bases covered, Mercy continued to work the backlines, helping soldiers and civilians alike before continuing to move with the group of Overwatch members. It had been about four hours on the field now, each hour feeling longer than the last as adrenaline began to fade. Although caution was still present, after so many hours of panic the human body grows accustomed to the feeling of danger. Mercy had her Caduceus Blaster at the ready in case of the off chance a Talon Soldier had crossed over to enemy lines amidst the chaos.

The young woman had noticed a pattern after so many battles. Talon would often send in Operatives specifically to find and dispose of the medic. It was a smart tactic. If the support is cut off from the group, then the enemy team would fall faster with no one to heal them. However, unlike most medics, Mercy could hold her own in a one on one battle. She was always sure to shoot them somewhere that wasn’t fatal, either the kneecap or the shoulder sufficed until someone would realize she was in trouble.

She finished with the soldier she had flown to, sending him off to the front lines to help Morrison. All Overwatch soldiers were rallying near Reinhardt, his shield still taking damage, but they were successfully pushing forward. Scanning over her teammates with her Caduceus staff and Valkyrie Suit, she could see that all vitals were optimal with no major damage to any person.

She took a second to breathe while rubbing her hand over her face; her exhaustion ever-present but she must push it away again. Just like in her tent, there was work to be done.

Mercy then heard a small cry in the alleyway to her right, her attention immediately drawn to the dimly lit area. With all well on the frontlines, she hesitantly walked toward the voice. Unsheathing her Blaster from its holder on her hip, eyes darting around for any dangers that might be present. The sound of sniffles were echoing off of the walls surrounding her, making it harder to locate the one in need of her assistance.

Left, right, right, keeping her back to the wall when she peeked down each new alleyway. With one last turn, she found the source of the whimpers; a small child trapped underneath rubble from a previous explosion. The girl had tears in her eyes, obviously terrified. Mercy latched her Caduceus Blaster back in her holster once again while running to the child in a brisk pace. She allowed her wings to gently flutter as she floated to a kneeling position in front of the trapped civilian.

“Hello, there. I am here to help,” Mercy stated barely above a whisper, “Where are you hurt?”

The girl was silent, more tears falling down her chubby cheeks now that this stranger was with her. More of a release of emotions the child was trying to hold back than fear for the new human, similar to a guilty child who was getting scolded.

With her new position, the woman was now able to see that the girl’s leg was trapped under a large portion of concrete. Her head protected by a bent steel beam, keeping the rest of the concrete at bay. For the moment, at least. Mercy let her concern show on her face for brief second before plastering a gentle smile on her lips to calm the child.

“I am going to try and lift the rubble, alright?” she asked the small child, no older than the age of six.

The crying girl tried to speak, but her words were lost in her blubbering. The woman tried to shush her worries away, tenderly petting the smaller girl’s hair to still her crying.

“Shhh, it’ll be alright. I’ve got you,” the angel continued to smile as she spoke in a comforting tone, “I am going to need you to stay completely still, alright?” Mercy moved her hands from the girl to the concrete, trying to get a solid grip on the crumbling surface. Once she got a nod of agreement from the small youth, Mercy used all of her strength to lift the destroyed building pieces. However, it only moved upward a centimeter or so.

Mercy's physical abilities had always been lack-luster.

The young girl cried out in pain from the shift in weight, causing Mercy to immediately still her actions.

“I am so sorry,” the angel said genuinely apologetic, “I did not mean to hurt you. I am going to need to get my friends to help you out of there. They are very nice people.” Mercy gave a smile to reassure the child.

“…No!... the bad….” From then on, the small girl spoke in her broken native language. Mercy could only understand bits and pieces but could tell that the little girl was panicking.

“Its going to be okay. I promise that I will get you to a safe place,” the woman tried to pacify her. The child seemed to understand English well enough, but wasn’t fluent in the new language. She hoped that her reassuring smile would be enough to get the child to settle.

She lifted a hand to her right ear, activating her communicator. “This is Mercy requesting immediate assistance. My coordinates are 27-” Her words were immediately cut short when she felt the familiar cool steel of a gun pressed against the back of her head. She stayed frozen in that kneeling position with her communicator still activated, she felt every second of that minute tick by.

 _The Bad_.

“Mercy? What’s wrong, love?” She heard the bright British voice on the other end of the radio buzz in her ear before she felt the pressure of the barrel increase. Mercy’s heart was now pounding in her chest, licking her dry lips as a nervous tick.

“Don’t you dare answer that question,” the man behind her growled out under his breath so the communicator wouldn’t pick it up. Mercy took a long pause to weigh her options, her eyes never leaving the wounded child in front of her.

She took a breath.

“Nothing,” she finally uttered, “I tripped.”

Her tone was the very one she used to tell a person their loved one had passed away on her operating table. Once the words left her lips, the man behind her harshly plucked the device from her ear. Out of her peripheral vision, the Doctor could see the communicator drop to the ground before being stepped on by a heavy boot. It shrieked a final dying beep before being crushed to pieces.

Mercy reached for her Blaster achingly slow as to not alarm the man standing above her. However, luck was not on her side. He noticed her movement and grabbed a handful of her blonde ponytail, yanking her head back viciously while shifting the gun from the back of her head to her temple. Mercy gasped sharply from the action, yet with her head now forcibly pulled backwards she could now see the Talon Agent above her.

His eyes were light and piercing, not as blue as her own but more of a foggy grey. Although, there was something behind them that made her core ache. His face was short and pointed, with plenty of nasty looking scars on his face. Nothing about this man looked friendly.

“Trying to be tough now, aren’t ya?” he smiled in amusement.

The trapped girl was now weeping audibly, scared for not only herself but also the woman in front of her. The male growled in annoyance at the sounds.

“Shut up, kid!” he yelled in a powerful yet equally chilling tone. However, the child only cried harder, even more terrified than before. Mercy took the opportunity to suddenly grab the forearm of the distracted man. Knowing exactly where a rather painful pressure point was, she squeezed it with all the strength her fingers possessed. He yelped out in pain, dropping the gun like she had hoped. Mercy shot up to her feet, unsheathing her Caduceus Blaster and aimed it at the man.

The Talon Operative glared at her while clutching his arm, letting out a breathy curse. Mercy stared back at the man, unmoving from her position in front of the child. The man took a threatening step closer, causing the woman’s eyes to harden.

“You play a hard game, Miss Doctor,” he began, standing even more in her space, “but I can see your hands are shaking.”

He was right. Although she tried desperately to hide her fear, it was easily apparent to the veteran who stood in front of her. She tightened her grip on her gun to still its trembling as her face contorted in anger. She continued to stand in front of the girl, acting as a barrier between her and the enemy. Her wings stretched upward, showing it’s true wingspan in order to appear more threatening.

“Leave the area. This child is injured and I must help her,” the angel demanded, not budging as the man stood toe to toe with her. The smell of gunpowder was present on his shirt, along with the stench of decaying corpses.

“I don’t think so, baby.”

Mercy felt a shiver run up her spine at the inappropriate pet name. If there wasn’t a child to worry about, she would have gotten as far away from this man as possible.

The Talon Agent began to laugh, almost doubling over from his enjoyment. This caused the woman to stiffen, alarmed confusion taking over her senses.

“You should see the look on your face!” he mustered with laughter still tickling his lips, “You are way more fun to play with than _that_ snot-nosed brat.” He motioned with a flick of his head to the girl still trembling on the ground.

A tiny yet audible gasp escaped from the woman as she thought of the man purposefully injuring and trapping the adolescent. She had fought for her own survival on many occasions, but this time was different.

Physically, the man was similar to many soldiers she had faced in the past. He was clearly stronger than her and, even with her heeled boots, stood about two heads taller. Mentally, however, she could easily tell he was off. He seemed to enjoy toying with her, contorting her emotions to his will. He was unbalanced, unpredictable, _dangerous_ in every sense of the word. The look in his eyes was enough to make her visibly pale.

“I’m warning you,” she let out the empty threat with a shaky breath.

He looked like he could take more than a simple shot to the shoulder. She wasn’t going to kill this man, especially not with a six year old behind her. She was a woman of healing and life, she did not want to taint her hands anymore than she already had after years of operations. The child did not deserve to be traumatized by seeing a man die right before her eyes. Her thoughts were now all muddled together, going back and forth about what she should do. Pull the trigger and save herself and the child, but ultimately kill a man _or_ let him advance if only to save the girl? She didn’t care what would happen to herself, only the young soul behind her mattered.

“Oh, are you now?” The Talon agent smirked menacingly, he could clearly see the internal turmoil in the woman’s cerulean eyes and oh how _loved_ it. His desire to cause her even more chaos outweighed his sense of duty for the mission at hand. Using her hesitation to his advantage, he expertly pulled out his favorite knife in the blink of an eye and slashed the Angel’s face with its sharp blade. Soiling that perfect, polished, pale skin with a fountain of blood.

The Angel let out a sharp cry of pain, crumpling to the floor from the sudden shock of the attack. Her hands immediately going to the gash on her left cheek, the slightly diagonal wound starting at the edge of her cheekbone and ending at the tip of her slender nose.

The girl screamed from seeing her guardian angel fall to the side, the carnage making her sob even louder. The Talon Agent let out a frustrated grunt, eyes snapping from his masterpiece to the obnoxious child. He quickly scooped up the fallen gun, aiming it at the tiny human.

“I told you to shut the fuck up!” He shouted down at the girl, clearly loosing his patience to her wails.

Mercy had a split second to react. She threw herself over the girl before the crazed man could pull the trigger, using her own body as a shield. The deafening sound of a single gunshot was the only thing heard in the alleyway.

Then there was an eerie silence.

Mercy braced herself for the pain, but it never came. Slowly turning her head to look back at the man, Mercy could only see his putrid face frozen in horror. The mentally ill Talon Operative fell to the ground with a heavy thud, completely still. Life had already left his eyes the moment the bullet pierced his heart.

No one moved.

Mercy continued to stare at the dead man while holding the child.

After an eternity, the Blackwatch Commander stepped from the shadows taking even strides to the pair. He stepped over the corpse like it wasn’t even there. He didn’t kick it out of spite, just simply ignored its presence. Without missing a beat, Reyes knelt down next to the two females, wordlessly lifting the heavy rubble off of the poor child.

Snapping back to the problem at hand, Mercy quickly reached underneath the concrete cave and wrapped her arms completely around the girl before lifting her gently away from the mess.

After another long moment, the silence was filled with the sobs of the small child. She held onto Mercy with all her strength, letting out all of her fear in that simple emotion while burying her face into the shoulder of her Angel.

Mercy firmly yet tenderly held the child close, lowering her head to press her lips to the crown of the child’s. The two stayed like that until the youth’s cries had softened to whimpers and Mercy’s arms stopped their trembling. All the while the woman whispered sweet words to calm both the little girl and herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to try to update every week, I'm not sure how well I am going to keep this schedule but I can try! The little girl in this chapter was actually based on the one in the Overwatch game trailer that Mercy flies to, hope some of you caught that. I hope you all have a lovely holiday, whichever you celebrate!
> 
> (Shout-out again to my amazing friends who have helped me create this story!)


	3. Chapter 3

Commander Reyes took the time to notify the other soldiers of their location while Mercy did a small diagnostic on the injured girl. Her leg was definitely broken, the fibula almost completely snapped in half. Some scrapes and bruises littered her arms and torso, but other than that there seemed to be no other major injuries.

Mercy hated to think that the Talon Agent would break this poor child’s leg only to lure her away. What type of people did Talon enlist? _Or what type of people did they create?_

Mercy paid close attention to her behavior, the beginnings of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder were apparent. Around Reyes the child was on edge, immediately stiffening with tears threatening to spill. Although he looked nothing like the dead man, he had a similar build and also carried a weapon. Anytime he came close to Mercy, the girl would panic. So he kept his distance, deciding to lean against the alley’s wall as he waited for reinforcements.

Mercy prayed that the girl wouldn’t be affected more than she already was by this war. That time would erase it from her memory. However, this child was just one of many. Hurt both physically and mentally, the Angel couldn’t bare to think of all of the others who were caught in the crossfire.

Mercy shook her head lightly to focus back to the youth’s physical injuries. She couldn’t allow herself to get lost in thought. She needed to stay aware, _awake_.

“This is going to hurt, but I need you to be brave, alright?” the Doctor offered another weak smile as she positioned herself to realigned the leg.

The little girl nodded, continuing to stay silent after she had finished crying from fear. The woman didn’t want to cause the child pain, but it was necessary for proper recovery.

She took a deep breath to prepare herself then expertly snapped her limb back in order, using just enough force to not overextend the leg.

The girl shrieked in pain as new tears freely fell from her eyes. Dr. Ziegler quickly reached for her long forgotten Caduceus Staff and healed the child as quickly as possible, hoping that the pain would not last long.

“I’m sorry that hurt,” the Doctor offered a sincere apology, she always did have a weak spot for children, “But doesn’t that feel better now?”

The small girl slowly nodded again, the tears still present in her eyes but her face no longer showed pain.

She was so fixated on her patient, Mercy didn’t even noticed the two approaching soldiers until they stood right next to her. She flinched away before recognizing the Blackwatch symbols on their chests.

The Angel placed a hand on her pounding heart, attempting to tame it’s pace. _Calm down, you have seen worse than this._ _An attack like that shouldn’t be enough to rattle you._ Quietly, she released an unsteady breath to reset her overreacting body.

Reluctantly, the woman handed the no longer injured girl to the small rescue team, kindly waving as the two carried her away. However, Mercy made no attempt to move from her sitting position after they had already left.

With nothing left to distract her, her mind began to run the recent events over and over again. She shouldn’t have gone off on her own. But if she didn’t the child might have perished. But if she were stronger, maybe he wouldn’t have tried to corner her in the first place. These thoughts made her mind swirl.

After mentally preparing herself for what felt like hours, the Angel finally stood. Her shoulders and lower back ached from strain as her thigh muscles protested against getting back on her feet. She felt light headed now that she was vertical. Maybe she stood up too fast, maybe it was the aftershock of such a violent attack, maybe it was the sight of the dead man still laying right next to her, maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t eaten a real meal in a week because she gave a majority of her portions to recovering patients, maybe it was-

Her erratic thought process was halted by a large hand on the small of her back.

Mercy’s head spun to the owner of the hand, her own instinctively going to the Blaster on her hip. She was met face to face with the Blackwatch Commander; his dark brown eyes met her own cerulean. The woman’s tense muscles immediately relaxed when recognition hit her senses. She thought she had been left alone when the soldiers took the girl off the battlegrounds.

“You’re swaying,” Reyes stated, blunt as ever.

Mercy blinked a few times as her mind took a moment to register his words. She took a step away from her Commander once she realized his hand was still supporting her.

“I’m fine,” she lied, no emotion detectable in her voice. Her eyes wandered to the corpse beside them. Blood had stopped pouring from his wound; all traces of life were now nonexistent. After staring for a moment too long, she spoke again.

“How did you know I was in trouble? My communicator was destroyed.”

Reyes crossed his arms over his broad chest once he retracted his hand.

“You don’t _‘trip.’_ You’ve got fucking wings,” he spat, trying, and albeit failing, to keep his anger at bay. In all honesty, he was more than angry with her. She always put herself in dangerous situations for complete strangers. But that was her. Selfless and caring. It aggravated him to no end.

“How long has it been?” Reyes spoke again, switching the conversation.

Mercy’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, her deep blue eyes glancing again to the taller man’s. His gaze was unwavering, accusatory.

“What?” she questioned, not understanding his.

“How long have you been awake?”

There it was. Reyes had always been too observant. Even her shameful attempts of hiding her exhaustion had appeared on his radar.

“63 hours,” was all she said after a brief pause. Lying cost more energy than telling the truth. If she had more stamina she would have played dumb, but _God_ , was she tired.

“No wonder,” Reyes said has he stepped closer, lifting his calloused hand to her chin to get a better look at the large gash on her cheek, “Even when you’re in your right mind, you’re piss-poor at fighting.”

She knew he was worried. He was the type of person that would mask his emotions with insults; she never truly took them to heart. The faintest smile graced her lips at his musings.

“I wasn’t hired for my fighting abilities,” she retorted, a slight playfulness in her tone. Mercy allowed him to manipulate her head in any way he chose as he inspected the cut.

“Clearly.”

They both stayed silent. He continued to look at her bloody cheek as she continued to look at him. His face was pensive, eyebrows drawn together even more than usual. He wore a deeper scowl, the corners of his mouth almost dipping into his facial hair. His eyes held an unusual sharpness in them as he inspected the gash. He was more than angry, he was livid.

Reyes wiped away some of the blood on her cheek with his warm thumb. The action caused her to wince in pain. Instantly, his hand pulled away from her face, completely covered in the crimson liquid.

She took the chance to glance down at her chest; her white polished armor was stained with a large amount of the same substance that painted his hand red. Had she really been bleeding that much? She knew the slice was deep, but she didn’t realize _how_ deep. The Talon Agent most likely nicked her infraorbital artery in his assault.

“That’s gonna leave a nasty scar,” his face contorted in irritation. His own face was littered with similar cuts after so many years of fighting. They weren’t the worst wounds in the world, but damn were they painful. She didn’t deserve such a lasting scar; she was still green. Scars had a funny way of describing a person and from his knowledge of her, she didn’t need any wartime stories like this. In the end, she had been lucky. If the cut had been even a centimeter higher, she would be blind in her left eye. “You might even need stitches.”

“The Valkyrie Swift Response Suit recognizes even the smallest of injuries and will release the proper dose of nanotechnology to heal any and all damage,” she explained to him. She felt like she had repeated the same speech hundreds of times to the man.

All of her research and medical jargon was like another language to him. He stopped listening half the time, allowing her to ramble about her life’s work until she was satisfied. Oftentimes that led to him being scolded for wasting her time once she realized that his mind was elsewhere. However, this time she didn’t continue. She only told him the necessary information before growing quiet again.

The bleeding had already stopped, nanomachines clotting the laceration that should have kept oozing for another hour. It would heal within the next thirty minutes, leaving no trace of the slice ever existing. Since it was her only injury, the dosage for the nanotechnology inside her body was minuscule.

After another long pause, the taller man couldn’t stand the silence any longer. He stood to his true height, eyes narrowing.

“What the hell were you doing _alone_ in the middle a goddamn _warzone_?” his tone was dark, the frustration he had been holding back finally surfacing.

“Helping,” Mercy replied curtly, tired eyes meeting fiery ones. His eyes always held fire within them, the passion his soul possessed only visible through those dark brown windows.

“Who, yourself?” he retorted back, “If that’s the case, then you’re doing a great job,” his tone was heavily laced with sarcasm, more than usual anyway.

Mercy shot him an annoyed look before pushing past him, rubbing the rest of the blood off her lower cheek with the back of her hand. She didn’t have time for this.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Reyes demanded, agitation growing even more now that the woman was ignoring him.

Mercy turned back on her heel to face the man, “Where does it _look_ like I’m going?” her voice was light but there was an undertone of annoyance and mockery. Turning back to face the end of the alleyway, she began to walk again. Her heeled boots clicked warningly with each step.

Reyes was not fazed.

“You are to report back to Overwatch Headquarters, effective immediately,” the timbre of his voice giving a powerful and official ring to the words. Mercy suddenly halted her quick pace, standing frozen in the mouth of the alleyway.

“ _Excuse me?_ ” she questioned, slowly turning back to her supposed friend.

“You’re being benched, Doc,” he elaborated, “You’ve been awake for almost three days. I will not endanger my team because our healer became incapacitated from sleep deprivation.” Reyes rarely took on this military-like tone with her, that’s how she knew he was completely serious. “I know that if I sent you back to the medical tent, you’d only start treating more causalities.”

“Reyes, I am the only support the team has,” her voice raising, “If you send me to Headquarters, then they stand no chance.”

“That was not a suggestion,” the Commander stated, a threatening edge to his tone. “I can easily grab one of the other medics to fill your place.”

“They can’t use the Valkyrie Suit _or_ the Caduceus Staff.” She strode back over as she tried to reason with him. “I can keep more soldiers from being killed better than anyone else in the whole medical department of Overwatch!”

“ _You_ were almost killed!“

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“ _Fine_? You took a knife to the face!”

“I had to protect the child!”

“You see? Your sense of judgment is skewed! That little stunt was too risky-”

“ _My_ judgment is skewed? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve made challenging decisions on my table to save someone’s life?!”

Their argument began to build. This was far from their usual bickering. It held more animosity than any other spat they've had. Words of exasperation began flying off both tongues. They both knew the proper triggers to set the other off, and this time they were not holding any punches. The two voices rose, trying to speak over the other until their sentences began to jumble.

“You don’t think I’ve made some tough decisions in my time? I am the goddamn _Commander_ of Blackwatch. I’ve been through some shitty situations too, Doc.”

“But you don’t know how many times I’ve seen the lights fade out of person’s eyes, how many times I’ve uttered the words: ‘time of death-‘”

“Oh, I know. I see it every time I pull the goddamn trigger-“

“That is your decision, mine is to save the people _you’ve_ shot!”

“You would honestly save the enemy _instead_ of your own teammate?”

“I would never turn my back on someone!”

“That’s exactly what you just did! You left your group in order to get yourself killed. If you care so much more for Talon, would you save that son of a bitch if I didn’t kill him instantly?!” He pointed to the dead man still lying beside them.

It was a low blow. Mercy faltered for a second, not able to produce a proper response. She didn’t know if she would save that man. He hurt her, hurt a child and had only shown unstable tendencies. He would be a menace… Wouldn’t he? But not saving him would have been against her Hippocratic Oath. Her morals were starting to slip away from her. She felt sick. Sick at herself for hesitating to save someone who needed her.

“…How dare you assume-“

“You aren’t denying it.”

“If you were in _my_ shoes-“

“If I were in your shoes, I would have slaughtered him like the _pig_ he is!” There was darkness in his tone, an edge that made even her shiver.

“Should a _Commander_ be uttering those words? You lead an organization that prides itself on Peace and Justice-“

“I’m not the Commander of Overwatch, Doctor. That’s ‘pretty-boy’s’ job. I run Blackwatch. The two have _very_ different mindsets.”

Mercy paused, processing his words. This was a new side to him. One she had never seen. To disrespect his Co-Commander and long-time friend was completely unlike him. Their exhaustion has made both of their tongues loose and what she was hearing concerned her.

“Reyes, what are you saying?” she spoke carefully, meeting him in the eye with a new emotion: apprehension.

He took a step closer, eyes still locked with hers almost as a challenge.

“I’m saying, that Blackwatch missions aren’t buckets of sunshine. Sometimes we have to bite the bullet and take a few in the process. We have been assigned reconnaissance, engagement, _assassinations_ , you name it. Being on my team is practically begging to be covered in blood.”

Mercy stood, a dullness covering her eyes as her mind drifted back. Back to the many operations where she hadn’t done enough. A patient bleeding out, her making a mistake or her killing them herself.

_Covered in Blood._

She looked away from his penetrating eyes, choosing the ground instead of his piercing brown. Her hands began to tremble. She formed them into fists, pumping them methodically in order to stop them, but her normal tricks wouldn’t work this time. They still continued to shake. An unsteady breath escaped her as she brought those appendages into her line of sight. Red. Crimson red soaked her gloves.

Once her eyes left his, Reyes’ gaze drifted to the dead man beside him, anger began to flare again.

“Blackwatch was created to combat Talon. Beat them at their own game.”

Her breathing increased as she stared at the substance that stained her hands. The sight she had seen a million times, the sight that has been burned into her memory, now made her stomach churn. No matter how many times she washed these hands they still possessed the rusty stench. It was enough to make her retch.

“His sorry ass got what it deserved.”

Death had always followed her. No matter how many times she had tried to avoid it, it still called her name. Claiming those around her. Her patients, her friends, her parents. Everyone she has ever loved was snatched by its clutches. It never ceased and never relented. So she decided to face it head on, try to fight it on its own playing field: a battlefield. But with each new death, her defenses would weaken. A part of herself would be taken with each stolen life. She was starting to crumble. Death had taken her support beams and she would fall to its greed eventually.

“Talon has been a thorn in my side ever since I joined this _damn_ organization.”

She felt Death’s claws tickle her spine as her head began to spin. Thoughts coming and going at light speed. She was a Doctor. She was an Angel. She was nothing. She could do nothing to stop the onslaught. People would always kill people. No talk of sense would stop them. All she was good for was cleaning up the pieces. Pieces of people that reeked of revenge. Death would glide alongside her as she purged the wreckage. The only lasting friendship she had. Smiling at the mayhem. Smiling at her.

“Even if Blackwatch completes the same tasks as those bastards, I will _never_ end up like he has. I will fight and I will survive a _nd I will kill anyone else who gets in my way!_ ”

“GABRIEL, PLEASE!”

 

Their argument abruptly stilled. Silence was the only thing between them now. Mercy and Reyes were friends, sure, but status kept them from using first names even when off-duty. They only referred to each other by their call sign or official title. For her to say his name was a curveball that caused him to instantly freeze.

“Please, Gabriel… Stop.” her soft voice was barely above a whisper.

In an effort to calm herself, she held her arms close to her chest, cradling herself in an embrace. She counted backwards from ten all the while taking long, deep breaths. Repeat. Her mind began to clear. The blood upon her was her own. Not someone else. Her own. Not someone else’s.

 _You’re fine._ _You’re fine. You’re fine._ The words became a mantra in her head as the fatigue took over. She was overreacting. Exhaustion making her emotions turbulent and his words spark anxiety within her. She did not want to fight with him, and she knew he did not want to fight with her.

Her blue eyes met his darker ones. Even though her face showed weariness, her eyes shone with a resilient strength she always possessed.

She would not forget why she was here.

“I am needed out there,” her subdued voice held her internal determination.

The Commander stared at her, his eyes never leaving her after she called his name. He had been looking at the dead Talon agent throughout his own monologue, trapped in his own emotions due to similar tiredness. Although once his eyes snapped back to her, he could immediately tell she was fighting with herself as well as him. He had never seen her panic like this before. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he stood and watched her. Watched her gain clarity from her own iron-will.

Not enough people gave her credit. She wasn’t the most physically strong person in Overwatch. That was for sure. But this woman held more fortitude than any of the other man in his entire team. Even more than himself.

He sighed in defeat.

“You will stay with the group at all times, understood?” was all he said as they shared a look of deference.

Mercy took a breath, closing her eyes for a moment before stand straight. She reached for the Caduceus staff with newfound dignity, halo and wings aglow with her own light.

“Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually a lot harder than I thought it would be. I rewrote this one about three times, but I am happy with how it turned out. Keep in mind that there isn't enough lore about Blackwatch, so I kinda made some of this stuff up. Hope you'll forgive me if it isn't correct. Thank you for reading and feedback is appreciated!
> 
> (Shout-out to my friend who stayed up late to help me finish this struggle of a chapter!)


	4. Chapter 4

The battle began raging. More and more of her fellow soldiers fell, faster than she could heal them. Many good people were lost to this pointless war. Why couldn’t everyone just work toward peace instead of senseless violence? Because that’s not how people work. Even children whom could barely talk would hit one another if they were angry enough.

Or if they had the right motivation.

Mercy flew from soldier to soldier, not even stopping to catch her breath now that their attack was coming full force. Her legs were starting to ache from how much running she accomplished. Her arms were in the same pain from the ninety-degree angle she held her staff at, seldom aiming it away from an injury. But she couldn’t stop. Lives were at stake.

She instinctively flew to a soldier who had just been riddled with bullets, almost catching a few herself in her beeline. Ducking behind a wall for cover, she still held her healing stream on the fallen Overwatch member. She watched as the wounds closed and saw him spring back to life in a matter of seconds. Going from a bleeding pile of a man to a renewed soul full of energy.

That’s what she slaved away in her lab for. To save people who were beyond saving. The smallest smile of accomplishment graced her lips as she stepped out from behind her cover only to be pulled back again by a hand on her arm.

She let out a small noise of surprise from the unexpected tug, but was even more shocked by the rain of bullets that littered the ground where she once stood. Whipping her head around to look at the owner of the hand, she was not at all bewildered to see the Blackwatch Commander.

“…Thank you,” was all she murmured after a short silence.

Reyes nodded in reply as he reloaded his guns.

The air between them had a hint of awkwardness from unresolved tensions. However, there was still their normal understanding and respect laced in the uncomfortable feeling.

However, his words continued to haunt her even hours after they had last spoken. They both said some rather harsh things to each other, but Reyes’ contempt was something completely new to her. She had always known he was on the serious side, grumpy even, but never so spiteful in his endeavors. She knew that a battle heightens emotions, and made people do and think things they normally wouldn’t. But what he said truly concerned her. She needed to talk with him in a calmer environment. They could always confide in each other. That’s something she liked about their friendship. They were each other’s foundation when Overwatch began to overwhelm them.

“I’ll cover you while you fly outta here, your wings can carry you faster than they can shoot,” Reyes stated as he switched positions with her so he was closer to the edge of the wall, “Fly to Reinhardt and stay behind his shield.”

“Understood,” the woman confirmed as she programmed her Valkyrie Suit to lock onto Reinhardt. She waited for the Commander’s signal before flinging herself into the battle once more.

Reyes appeared from behind the wall’s cover as soon as he motioned for her to go, unleashing enough bullets to cause the Talon members for find cover themselves. He made sure the Angel made it to Reinhardt before slipping back behind the wall and ultimately into the shadows. From there, he focused his attention solely on the flighty doctor, watching her continuously flutter from person to person. The team was making a great push forward; they didn’t need him in the front lines. But if something happened to their only medic then the whole mission would be lost. That’s what he told himself anyways.

In reality he didn’t want what happened in the dark of foreign alleyways to happen again. Even if she promised to stay out of trouble, Mercy had a knack for not following orders. So to combat her stubbornness he decided to safeguard her from the enemy threats. He hid himself well in winding alleyways and stayed at least twenty meters away from her, not wanting to be seen by Mercy, Members of Overwatch or Talon. In the guise of darkness, he continued to vigilantly patrol the woman.

The Doctor stopped her constant zipping to scan the field once more with her Caduceus staff, checking every person of her team. A sudden spark of red caught her attention. Someone was falling to critical levels. High on a nearby rooftop she could see the weak vitals of the Overwatch sniper. Her heart lurched with fear. She could detect that Ana Amari was lying on the top of the building, clutching her face. That information was all she needed; her friend required her immediate assistance.

Without wasting another second, Mercy locked the Valkyire suit onto the wounded agent. Pushing off the ground with her heeled boots, she allowed her wings to quickly launch her into the air without a second thought.

Ana was in serious danger if she didn’t get prompt medical assistance. Head injuries were the worst to come by on the battlefield. Trauma to the head was all a guessing game; she would need to examine the wound before estimating its damage. From the way Ana held her face, she could assume that it was extensive.

Mercy willed her wings to go faster, trying her best to get to her injured friend. While she was flying closer and closer she could see another figure up on the same rooftop. The new woman’s long ponytail blew in the wind as she turned to the approaching angel.

Time stood still.

Her bluish skin gave the appearance of a corpse suddenly walking among the living. To Mercy, she may as well been one. Mercy knew the female all too well, the former Overwatch Agent had disappeared what felt like years ago. They stared at each other. The two women were about two meters apart at this point. Mercy was close to landing on the building while the other stood on the ledge. The Angel could make out every detail of her face. It had to be her.

“Amélie,” Mercy breathed out as she stayed frozen mid air.

Amélie smirked with venom in her eyes. Venom, but not recognition. Mercy had never seen such a dangerous look on the woman’s face.

That sinister smirk was replaced with the view of a sniper rifle’s barrel.

All Mercy could do was let out a small gasp before a flaming pain tore through her abdomen. The force of the blank range bullet was enough to send her backwards, flight pattern broken.

She was falling.

Everything was in slow motion.

She grasped desperately at air, trying to find anything to hold onto as gravity pulled her down.

She was falling.

Panic consumed her.

She was falling.

Only the blue sky in her view as she plummeted.

She was falling.

 

And yet there was a moment of peace.

Peace.

Or Acceptance.

Serenity encompassed her, she felt weightless with the wind tossed through her hair. She closed her eyes, as blue as the sky, as she felt the sunlight upon her face.

Then she felt the impact of the ground.

Immense pain was the only thing that came to mind. Her body was in chaos, heart-pumping blood to her burning lungs. She couldn’t tell if the ringing in her ears was from her throbbing head or the distressed beeping of her failing Valkyrie Suit. She lay there as numbness overtook her. Eyes open and locked on the dulling blue of the sky before she could longer feel or see anything.

 

 

 

It happened so fast he wasn’t able to comprehend. All Reyes saw was Mercy fly into the air then her body being thrown backwards by an unknown force. No, he knew that force all too well. He just didn’t want to believe it.

His breathing hitched, he stared motionless as he saw her drop from three stories high. The thunderous sound of gunfire became muffled.

For some sick reason, she looked majestic, like a legendary angel falling from the heavens. The sun’s light made her blonde hair shimmer and her pale skin glow. It wasn’t until she hit the ground with a sickening crack, that Reyes came back to reality. Yet he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. All he could do was stare at the splayed form of his comrade.

Soon a group of Talon Operatives came toward the wounded woman. If the shot and the fall weren’t enough to kill her, then they would finish the job. They got closer to her frail body.

_No…_

About five different agents were now within a yard of the fallen angel. Closing in on her. His chest clenched tighter.

_No._

The soldier closest to her brought a gun to her head.

_NO!_

His heart pumped fuel to his muscles, launching him from the shadows. Within a flash, Reyes had his own shotgun upon the agent’s face.

“Die.”

He blew away the brains of that insect without a moment’s hesitation. New rage possessed him, tinting his vision red or maybe it was the shower of blood doing that. It didn’t matter to him. He stepped over his angel’s frame, keeping her safe underneath him as he spun a cocoon of bullets around them.

“Die! DIE!!”

He watched as the last of the Talon agents fell lifeless to the floor, yet he kept shooting until every bit of his ammo was used. He let out a growl when he heard the click of an empty barrel, flinging his twin shotguns to the ground in his fury. One landed right next to the Angel’s broken wing. His emotions were then doused in a bucket of ice water.

Reyes was quick to act, kneeling next to her before pressing two fingers to her neck. He tried to ignore the pounding of his own heart, focusing only on the touch of his fingers upon her artery. There was silence.

“No… No. C’mon, Mercy.”

He pressed a little harder and waited another few seconds. Then he felt it, the faintest of pulses against his fingers. He let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Activating his communicator as soon as he knew she was still alive.

“Give me a goddamn medic, NOW.” Formalities were completely out the window at this point; all that mattered was trying to keep Mercy breathing. He pressed both of his hands to the wound on her stomach, hoping that would slow the bleeding. He took a look at her ashen face, it appeared like all of the life was already sucked out of her. He hissed out a few curses as he scoured their environment.

After surveying through the many corpses, he found what he had been scanning for: her staff. It was a little away from the couple, but even at his distance he could see that it had taken some damage. Reyes rushed to it, staring at the settings once he gripped it in his rough hands. Mercy had never even let him touch the thing before nor anyone else for that matter. Ever since the doctor created it, she had given strict instructions that no one may lay a finger on her work. At this point, she would understand.

He came back closer to her and pulled the trigger on the underside of the staff like he had seen her do countless times before. It didn’t even sputter the golden stream of healing. He cursed again, trying once more.

Nothing.

The normal settings on the staff began to blare red: INCORRECT DNA.

_Damn that Doctor!_ Of course she would put a lock on her technology to only recognize her as a user, in case her staff fell into the wrong hands in the midst of a battle. He knew how serious she was about her work, how much damage it could do if it was used for offensive purposes. She had to limit its use to prevent biological warfare. But to do this, her healing methods couldn’t be used on her own body if she became incapacitated. Obviously, she knew this and took the risks anyway.

He scanned over her broken Valkyrie Suit, frustration continuously building within him. It was cracked and shattered in many places. Her broken wings and halo no longer aglow. Arms and legs were bent in positions that didn’t look natural. The pool of blood underneath her steadily grew in size. She needed medical attention ASAP. He couldn’t wait a moment longer for that damn medic to arrive, he took matters into his own hands.

 

 

 

Head throbbing… Shoulders aching… Chest heaving. Ribs Broken. Abdomen- Her evaluation was cut short as a jolt of pain spread through her mangled body. She felt two arms encircle her form, collapsing her down into a travel friendly position. The bullet was definitely still inside her and had shifted from the sudden hold.

Her breathing increased, shallow and hungry for air now that she had begun to panic. _No, Zieglar. Keep calm. You will only exacerbate your problems._ She tried and failed to slow her breathing, her body craved oxygen more than ever.

She couldn’t hold back a weak cry of pain when she was jostled. Someone was running with her in their arms. She then comprehended the feeling of being held to a warm broad chest and strong arms supporting her back and knees. She struggled to force her eyelids open, but the sound of a familiar voice urged her. He was talking to her. She couldn’t hear words, only sounds. She studied the timbre of his voice. Deep and serious. Her eyes opened just a crack, to see the blurry outline of his face.

_Reyes?_ Her vision was still hazy, but was beginning to clear.

The sunlight did wonders for his skin tone. Had he always been this handsome? The Commander always did have such fierce eyes. She remembered the first time they met. His hard gaze had pierced her soul and left her to ponder about his wellbeing for the next week. Electricity shot through her, when they first shook hands. She had written it off as static electricity, but that type of shock had never hit her core the way it did that day.

“Angela!”

She recognized her name.

Her attention captured by reality once again. Pain once again present, blood pouring from her torso at an obscene pace. Drowning both of their uniforms in a sea of red. The back of her head was also warm with blood, sliding down her neck and painting her blonde hair crimson. She was overwhelmed with dizziness, ears loudly ringing. The throbbing only continued to grow. Thoughts coming slower. Fatigue tempting her to relinquish control.

“Angela, listen to me! You have to stay awake. We are almost to the medical tent.”

She could hear his voice held less power as he spoke, emotions he was trying to hide barely seeping through.

With each pulse of her head, she could feel her consciousness gradually slip away. She tried to hold on. Keep her eyes open, but they too began to flutter.

“That’s an order!”

She let out a weak chuckle under her breath at his childishness. She searched for her voice, trying and failing to speak. She had to focus the remainder of her energy on her vocal cords in order to verbalize her thoughts.

“…Es tut… mir leid…”

Her body became limp again as she gave into her exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been waiting so long to give you guys this chapter! These events are actually what inspired this fic in the first place. I know Mercy getting hurt in the midst of the battle is a common trope, but I love it so much that I couldn't help myself. So much drama, so much angst! I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do. Feedback is always appreciated and Thank you for reading!
> 
> Translations (through google translate, so it may not be correct...):  
> "Es tut mir leid" - I'm sorry


	5. Chapter 5

He couldn’t stop the tapping of his foot as he waited. He hated waiting. Ziegler always said he never had enough patience. She was right. He was a man of action. Right now, the action was to fiddle with the beanie in his calloused hands and constantly glance at the clock on the wall. 1:38 AM. He let out another restless sigh.

It had been nearly nine hours. Once he had gotten her to the medical tent, they started an emergency surgery. He was forced to wait outside the tent, listening to the frantic medical jargon was all he could do. He could tell immediately from their tone that the prognosis wasn’t good. The frustration and helplessness was piling up inside him. Even now he wanted to punch something. The wall, a chair, a face, anything to release the building tension.

The equipment wasn’t enough on the battlefield, that much he understood. They had already used all of their supplies on the other soldiers throughout the days of fighting. The medics were forced to call in a bird for their boss, hopefully to get her to Headquarters in time. They had ‘done everything they could’ before setting her in the transport. Paramedics surrounded her as soon as they landed, they didn’t even notice the Commander slipping onto the plane. He watched her from the shadows of the aircraft, eyes never leaving her face throughout the flight.

This was actually a common practice for him. He was trained in stealth, so what better way to train then to spy on the inhumanly observant Doctor. He was rather good at his job, but there were still times she would ask him questions in a seemly empty room. He would reveal himself with a gloomy expression, which would combat her amused smile. As much as he tried, he couldn’t be mad at the woman. She was intelligent and rather aware of her surroundings.

However, the best time to survey the Doctor was when she was engrossed in her research. The world would completely disappear and all that mattered was the data in front of her. He was always captivated by her diligence, staying up way past healthy sleeping hours to finish whatever formula she had been scribbling. He could describe in perfect detail the way her eyebrows would softly knit as she stared at page after page, the way her lips would press together when she was thinking, the way light shines in her cobalt eyes the moment she has solved a difficult equation.

He suddenly kicked the nearest object, which happened to be a potted plant in the hallway. The ficus toppling over and spilling dirt on the spotless floor. He now had to pace, get his energy out. Even though he had been exhausted for the past two days, he couldn’t even think about staying still at a time like this.

A few hours ago, Morrison had given word on the battlefield, “ _Thanks to that stunt you pulled, we were able to capture our objective.”_ Reyes stood still for a moment as he thought back to his Co-Commander’s words.

_What in the hell was that?_

He had been in the military for a long time, but he’d never been able to wipe out an entire field before.

Before he could continue that thought, the operating doors opened suddenly. The Commander’s head snapped over to the double doors. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he expected her to walk out in her usual lab coat with clipboard in hand. A wave of aggravation washed over him when he was met with a male doctor in scrubs. The second operation seemed to be over.

“How is she?” utter seriousness was the only thing laced in Reyes’ tone.

“She’s stable,” the new doctor sighed, “We can’t determine any more of her internal damage until the tests come back.”

Anger began to bubble up in Reyes again. Ziegler would have all of the answers before coming out to meet him. She was the best damn Doctor in the world. It would have taken her an hour to remove a bullet, not three like this bozo.

“From the looks of it, she has taken some head trauma along with some other serious injuries,” he continued looking over her charts, “We will run more tests once she is conscious.” The male physician met Reyes’ eye again, “Due to Dr. Ziegler’s specific instructions, we are not licensed to use her nanotechnology in any treatment. Recovery will take longer due to this fact.”

_Of course. Of fucking course._

“However, we detected trace amounts of her nanobiology in her blood stream before the Valkyrie Swift Response Suit became damaged,” the male doctor said, “If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have made it on the flight to Headquarters.”

The doctor continued to jabber about her injuries and recovery time. Reyes’ attention was immediately stolen when three nurses exited the operation room, rolling Ziegler out into the hallway. Her face was still pale, but held a bit more color than it did on the battlefield. By the way her body moved with each jostle of the gurney, he could tell that she was completely relaxed, drugged up from the surgery. Reyes walked toward her, the male doctor’s words were like a fly buzzing around his ear. Annoying and unnecessary. He quickly tried to follow the nurses into the woman’s new room, before the same Doctor stepped in front of him.

“Commander Reyes! There are many more procedures that need to take place. I cannot have you disturbing my patient,” the man bellowed to gain the attention of his higher up.

Something snapped in Reyes, suddenly grabbing the doctor by the shirt and slamming him against the nearest wall.

The Commander’s eyes became sharp but his voice was low with seething anger, “If you do _anything_ that hurts her instead of heals her, I will _break_ you. If you think I’m only talking physically, you are sorely mistaken. I have the power to black list your name in every single hospital on this goddamn globe if I want to. And trust me, I want to.”

He let go of the cowering physician with a rather forceful shove. The scene gained the attention of hospital security. After a fierce glare to the man he had successfully threatened, Reyes followed the two guards out of the medical ward. Allowing them to ‘escort’ him from the premises, although he could tell that they were too afraid to lay a hand on the brooding Commander.

Reyes let out a frustrated sigh once he was left alone again in the crisp morning air. Shoving his hands into his pockets, the man looked back up towards where he assumed Ziegler would be resting.

_Now what?_

There was no way he was going back to his quarters to sit around till sunrise. Sleeping was completely out of the question. Alcohol was an option, but after that shit-show he needed to do something to blow off some steam. Physical activity was usually enough to get extra energy out and occupy his mind. All he had to think about was proper form and what number he was on.

Without another thought, Reyes found his way to Overwatch’s on-sight gym. It was open twenty-four hours for instances like this, relieving horror torn soldiers from sleepless nights. People with normal schedules would never want to work-out at this hour, but for personnel working for such a high stress organization it was actually quite common.

Thankfully, the gym was empty; he had access to any machine he wanted. Reyes stripped off his bloodstained bullet-proof vest and stark black over-shirt, leaving him in a sleeveless tank, before tossing them haphazardly near the door. Grabbing one of the extra towels, he made his way to the pull-up bars. 1, 2, 3… 45, 46, 47. He kept going until his arms gave out. Same with every other machine. Leg Extension Machine, Rowing Machine, Treadmill; he worked himself to exhaustion for each of them. Adding more weight than his limit or going longer than he should; it didn’t matter. He just wanted to fill his mind with anything but her.

Reyes was on the bench press, lifting more than three hundred pounds, when he felt some of the weight being taken from the bar. Looking up, he was able to see the face of his pupil underneath the shadow of that ridiculous hat of his. The Commander’s frown deepened as soon as he saw the younger man but, as usual, McCree didn’t pay his sour mood any mind.

“What you always sayin’ bout not liftin’ without a spotter?” the southern drawl irked Reyes even more. McCree helped place the bar back in its holder before leaning against it in a carefree manner. Reyes slowly sat up, wiping his brow with the hand towel.

“I say that to idiots like you who think they’re invincible,” Reyes sighed finally glancing over to McCree.

“Whoa, there,” McCree slurred, “ain’t that a little harsh, jefe?”

Reyes just glared at him before he went over to the dumbbells, picking out the heaviest set. McCree strolled over to sit parallel to his Commander on an empty machine. They sat in silence for a while, only soft grunts coming from Reyes every few reps.

“Shooot… It’s 4 AM, pardner. You been here all night?” McCree broke the silence, when he looked over to the clock hanging above the wall of mirrors.

“Not here, but up.”

Another short silence.

“You just got back from a mission, right?” McCree leaned back in his seat, kicking his legs like an antsy child. “Why ain’t you sleepin’ like usual?”

This caused Reyes to stop mid-rep but didn’t over to look at the cadet as he replied, “Can’t.”

“Too much on the mind?”

“Jesse.” Reyes growled, warning him not to continue. He was so close to bursting. _Damn, this kid is like a five year-old!_

McCree threw up his hands as a sign of surrender. At this point he was use to Reyes’ piss poor demeanor since they worked in such close proximity together. In all honesty, Reyes was like a father figure to him. Seeing him alone in gym so early in the morning didn’t settle well in McCree’s chest.

“Alright, alright. Simmer down now. I understan’ you don’t wanna talk, but don’t go killin’ yourself," McCree paused before softening his voice slightly, letting some of his concern show, "You always tell me when I'm in way over my head, thought I should do the same fer you.”

Had the kid grown since the last time he saw him? The little snot would always fool around when on base, but now he seemed to be talking sense. The younger man seemed to show more maturity than usual.

Reyes stayed quiet as he focused his eyes on the motionless dumbbell.

"Listen... I know you're worried about the Doc," McCree began again, "But what would she say if she saw you tearin' yerself apart?"

Bringing Ziegler into this made his grip tighten around the weight he was holding. But ultimately he was right, if he keeps going like this then he could injure himself too. Knowing her, she would scold him for his carelessness even if _she_ was the truly injured one. The Commander sighed before standing and placing the dumbbells in their proper positions.

“That’s enough for today,” Reyes muttered under his breath before taking on his normal commanding tone, “I expect to see you at training in 0900 hours.”

“Yes, Boss.” McCree smirked softly as he saluted his higher up, standing before heading over to the weights himself.

Reyes took long, powerful strides to the door, grabbing both his shirt and vest. He began to slip on the black top as he walked out of the door. He suddenly halted as a thought hit him.

“McCree,” Reyes started slowly, “What are you doing up at 4 AM? You always sleep in on Fridays.”

McCree picked up dumbbells similar to the ones his Commander was using. He chuckled softly to himself, “Guess I’ve been found out,” he continued without turning to face Reyes, “just wanted to make sure ya got home safe, Capt’n.”

           

 

No matter how hard he tried to resist, Reyes found himself drawn to the medical building. He was currently surveying around the perimeter, moving through the shadows of the early morning. He calculated which window would be Ziegler’s room based on his memory before being escorted out. They were on the third floor operating room. She would need to be kept on the same floor for Intensive Care. He took a second to reason his next action. Would he be restricted from entering the building after this? As long as he didn’t get caught. And with that, he entered the medical department once again.

There weren’t many people on staff at this hour. The Blackwatch Commander was able to sneak by the receptionist while she inputted new patient data into the system. He could tell by the amount of styrofoam coffee cups on her desk, she wouldn’t be very observant.

Now, as he knew very well, Doctors would be a little harder to slip past. He was hoping that a long night of work would be enough to lower their awareness.

Each time someone walked down the hallway Reyes was in, he would slip behind a gurney or anything else that would give him cover. Once he made it to the third floor, stealth became a bit more difficult. Reyes would need a certified Doctor’s key card to enter any ICU room since it was far from ‘visiting hours.’ The only Doctor stationed on this floor was the male Surgeon that operated on Ziegler. Perfect.

Reyes stuck to the walls for the most part, trying to find the mediocre physician. After scavenging around the third floor for a good fifteen minutes, he found him leaving one of the other patient’s rooms. The Blackwatch operative ducked into an empty hallway, peeking at the man to locate the keycard. He could see that it was strapped loosely to his belt for easy access. Reyes smirked softly to himself. Like candy from a baby.

Reyes waited for the doctor to cross the intersection before snatching the ID from off of the man’s belt without a sound. He smiled devilishly in his own amusement before slipping back into the shadows, off to find the wounded woman’s room.

Retracing his steps back to the operating room, Reyes was able to find Ziegler’s fairly quickly. He checked to make sure the coast was clear before holding the card to the pad next to the door. There was a soft beep of approval, granting him access to the woman’s room. He placed a hand on the doorknob, taking a small breath before opening it.

There he saw her.

Laying on her back on the hospital bed, the thin blanket up to her chest with her arms out of its warmth. The standard position for patients after surgery. She was hooked up to many machines. A heartbeat monitor, IV for blood transfusions, even an oxygen mask was placed upon her head. The once lively Doctor looked so still and fragile. Truly broken.

He stayed frozen at the door for a minute, unable to comprehend the damage that was done to the woman. Reyes snapped back to reality when he heard a nurse’s murmurings at the end of the corridor. He quickly slipped into the room without another soul noticing.

“You look like shit, Doc,” Reyes commented as he finally stepped closer to her bed. He could just imagine her blue eyes glaring at him, annoyance present in her face. But of course she stayed still, only her chest floated up and down as she filled her lungs with air. The small puffs fogged the interior of the mask upon her face.

She would have replied with something witty to his statement. He enjoyed their banter. The Doctor was always quick with her words, unlike most people in Overwatch. They would all rather pick up a gun than participate in small talk any day, himself included. But she was a woman of knowledge. He found her rebuttals clever and entertaining. However, she always held a subtle gentleness in her voice, even in their arguments.

From all his experiences in the past, Reyes never put the words ‘Doctor’ and ‘kind’ in the same sentence. Until he met her. Most people go to medical school for the money, but Ziegler went for the sole purpose of helping others. And yet the Doctor never used any of her scientific knowledge on herself. That’s how she got herself into this mess. She was selfless and stubborn and willful and compassionate and-

Reyes laughed humorlessly to himself. This woman would be the death of him.

He now stood next to her, staring down at her face. This was the first time he had ever seen her without makeup. She didn’t glob it on like other women; she was much too practical for that. But she always wore a light dusting of eye shadow along with other small accouterments to accentuate her features. She honestly didn’t need it at all.

Upon further inspection, Zieglar really was _blonde_ ; even her eyelashes were that shimmering gold. Those platinum locks were splayed out on the pillow, pulled down from their normal restraints of a hair tie. It was actually longer than he expected. Absentmindedly, he ran his calloused fingers through the fine strands before immediately pulling away. He quickly took a few steps back, trying to distance himself from the woman.

What the hell was he doing? She was practically lying at deaths door and he felt the need to fix her hair for her? _Get it together, Gabe_.

After his quick reality check, his dark eyes gravitated to her once again. The Commander stuffed his hands into his pockets, hoping to restrain himself. He remained there, as still as the woman in front of him.

“You know…” he began slowly, “I can’t handle you.”

He paused.

Reyes felt a cold rush of awkwardness encompass him. _Why_ was he talking to her? She couldn’t hear him… Maybe that was the point. Either way, he couldn’t stand that the only sound in the room was the slow constant beep of her heartbeat monitor. He continued.

“You don’t follow orders; you’ve made that very clear today. You refuse to listen to your own medical advice. You push yourself past any human limits for _strangers_ who don’t even know how much you’ve sacrificed for them. And what does it get you…? A hospital bed.”

He paused again, waiting for her response out of habit.

Her silence caused anger and frustration to swell where awkwardness had once been.

“God, Mercy!” Reyes grunted, his hands flew up from the pants pocket to tear off the black beanie from his head. “Its ridiculous what you will do for other people. I mean, just look at yourself!”

He took another moment to do exactly that. The sight of her listless form caused an ache to appear in his core. His fist tightened around the hat he held.

After a long silence, the man sighed his agitation away, becoming much more defeated. Reyes grabbed a nearby chair with his empty hand and placed it backwards, closer to her bed. He straddled it, arms resting on the backrest.

“What am I gonna do with you? This will just keep happening because of your stubbornness.” Reyes spoke softly, more to himself than to her. He smoothed over his buzzed hair before replacing his favorite hat over it.

Now that he was sitting, her stature didn’t look as small. Sure, she was still shorter and slimmer than him, but now she looked less like a doll and more like a person. Still beautiful nonetheless.

His brown eyes found their way to her hand. It was pale just like the rest of her, but her nails were tinted an unhealthy blue. There was not enough blood in her system to warm the appendages.

Reyes hesitantly reached out and let his coarse fingertips brush against the back of her hand. He stole a quick glance at her face, seeing if she had stirred. She hadn’t. His attention went back to her hand. It was so petite and feminine compared to his rough, burly one. Reyes’ hand practically engulfed hers as he gently lifted it from the mattress.

Her fingers were like ice, he tried to warm them with his own by caressing each one softly. Her white skin contrasted with his tan complexion. As he looked at their two hands together, warmness settled in his chest. He interlaced their fingers, her delicate hand fit well in his. The man allowed himself a miniscule smile. Minuscule but also genuine, one he wouldn’t dare show her if she was awake.

These elegant fingers could produce life, while his only brought death.

With that thought, a new feeling made its way through him, one of bitterness. His smile instantly dropped as he quickly released her hand, placing it gently where it rested before his disturbance.

The Commander pulled his limb away once again, crossing it under the other to trap it. Self-loathing made itself present in his mind as thoughts of the Doctor continued to gnaw at him. He slowly crawled back in his protective shell where no emotion could penetrate. 

And yet, his heartbeat was as audible as hers.

Reyes lowered his head with a sigh as he rubbed his hand over his face, trying to wipe away any other intrusive thoughts of the woman beside him.

“Dios tenga piedad de mi alma,” he whispered as the orange rays of a new sun peeked over the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually much more difficult to write than any of the others. I struggle more with Reyes' character than I do with Mercy's, 1) because I'm female and 2) because I share a lot of similarities with Ziegler. I hope that this one isn't too slow... Speaking of too slow, I don't have any more chapters pre-written and it takes me a LONG time to actually type these up and edit them. Don't know if I can keep my one chapter a week schedule, but I will try my best! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Translation:  
> "Dios tenga piedad de mi alma" - God have mercy on my soul


	6. Chapter 6

The steady beep of a heartbeat monitor was the first thing she recognized. It was something calming, something familiar. Something she had listened to for many years from many patients. Countless late nights she stayed and listened to that sound, doing everything in her power to make sure that rhythm wouldn’t cease. Staying by a person’s side to check their vitals every few hours, there were a few times she would take over night shifts just to be close by if something happened. People were always at ease with the Angel of Overwatch watching over them. Although, they never noticed how much she actually sacrificed to guard their life. After all, ignorance is bliss.

As she traversed through thoughts and memories, another familiar sound pierced through her thoughts and stole the little attention she had. A voice. Baritone, stern and yet had a glimmer of gentleness in it. She tried to focus on the words, but they were muddled. As if she were listening from far away. She felt herself drifting in a state of limbo, not fully awake but not completely asleep either.

It was an odd sensation.

Finally, she mustered up the strength to force her eyelids open. Ziegler’s cobalt eyes slowly cracked as she let inhaled and exhaled a deep, audible breath. As if life was refilling her lungs again. She stared blankly at the white ceiling as she waited for the room to stop spinning. There was a dull throb in the back of her head, perfectly in time with the beeping monitor. The more aware she became, the more the pain made itself present. It encompassed her whole body. There wasn’t a single nerve that wasn’t screaming in agony.

The woman decided to focus on something other than her anguish. For instance, finding out where she was. From the auditory cue of her heart’s beat, she could tell that she was in a hospital. Not an unusual place for her to be found in, but never on this side of the table. The oxygen mask was obnoxious and felt uncomfortable around her aching head. She had half a mind to tear it off, but from a Doctor’s perspective she knew that it was necessary for unstable patients.

Exactly how _unstable_ was she?

Slowly, she turned her head to the right, wincing from the soreness in her neck as she attempted to survey the room. There was a window that displayed pitch-blackness, meaning that it was in the late hours of the night.

She could see herself in the glass’ reflection. She looked terrible. Pain was etched on her abnormally pale face, a majority of it covered by the oxygen mask. There were multiple other machines hooked up to her as she laid in the standard propped up position. No longer looking like a world-renowned Doctor, but instead an average injured patient. Her title completely washed away.

Ziegler stared at the reflection a moment longer; disgust began to twist her stomach at her pitiful sight. She tore her eyes away from her own reflection to observe the room through the mirrored surface of the window. She didn’t want to waste any more energy from unnecessary movement.

The only lights in the room were the rectangular shaped lamps over the two beds. The space was fairly large. They had set her up in a special Intensive Care Unit room, used for higher positions of Overwatch. It wasn’t necessary to place her here; she would have done the same in any of the other rooms. Actually it would have been better to put her in her office. It was large enough to house multiple patients, and that way she would have all of the equipment to tend to herself while she worked. She would have to speak to one of the nurses to discuss the possibility.

As she continued to contemplate through her clouded mind, a figure caught her eye through the window’s reflection. She immediately brought to reality. The other bed in the room was occupied; She wasn't alone.

Her Doctor instincts kicked in as she painstakingly turned her head to the left to examine the person sharing the same ICU room. The patient was laying on his side with his back to her. However, she recognized that powerfully build back and broad shoulders even in her delirious state.

Adrenaline shot through her body from seeing the Blackwatch Commander injured next to her. Her heartbeat monitor began blaring from the sudden spike in tempo. She quickly sat up only to immediately crumple back to the mattress clutching her abdomen. She couldn’t hold in her cry of pain. Her breathing increased as every part of her screamed for oxygen. She began to hyperventilate. Her rapid diaphragm’s spasms brought searing pain to her forgotten bullet wound. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to calm herself down but it was overwhelming. Like someone had just stabbed her with a dull knife.

“Angela!”

Reyes’ voice, though panicked, was like a rush of cool water through her. It took the focus away from her growing agony. She felt his large hands on her shoulder and upper arm; his grip was firm yet not painful. A solid pressure to ease her back to reality from the sudden strain of her injuries.

After a few minutes, her breathing began to even and her heartbeat began to slow. She started to relax again, yet she felt lightheaded from the overload to her senses. Her torso was now just a constant ache.

She deemed it safe enough to open her eyes now that the major pain had subsided. Reyes was standing over her, backlit from the soft glow above her hospital bed. His strong jawline and sharp cheekbones were rather prominent even in the dim lighting. She was able to see his deep brown eyes were mixed with several unidentifiable emotions. Mercy continued to stare at him, her mind drifting then returning in waves.

Reyes kept his warm hands on her shoulders, looking down at her as she struggled to clear the fog from her mind. Some of her blonde strands of hair stuck to her forehead as sweat began to form. Reyes slowly brought his right hand to her face, as to not alarm her, and brushed her bangs away rather tenderly.

Zieglar closed her eyes as she savored the touch; it was the only thing holding her thoughts in the present.

After taking a few deep breaths, she centered her mind with simple algebra equations before gaining enough mental strength to let her eyes open again. A look of concern immediately flashed over her face as she met his brown eyes.

“…Wh-“ her voice broke off, still rather weak from underuse. She cleared her throat softly, taking her time to form words.

Reyes waited, uncharacteristically patient. He even removed the oxygen mask from covering her mouth so he could hear her better.

“…Where… are you injured?”

Reyes froze for a second, staring at her before he let out a noise of exasperation, a mixture between a laugh and a sigh.

“Jesus. _That’s_ the first thing you’re gonna say?” Reyes scoffed, “Not a ‘Where am I?’ or ‘What happened?’”

Zieglar took another moment to muster the strength to converse.

“….I know where I am... We are in the Intensive Care Unit… at the Overwatch Headquarters’ Medical Building.” Mercy spoke in her normal-matter-of-fact tone, yet her vocal chords audibly grated against each other as they tried to get use to the feeling of speaking. “I know my own hospital, Reyes.”

Said man stared at her a moment after her witty remark, taken aback but also endeared by her words. Her casual banter was like a fresh breeze yet it had the power to knock the strength right out of him. He allowed himself to sit on the side of her bed instead of continuing to hover over her form. Reyes sighed as he slumped forward, rubbing his face with his hand. He tried to hide the miniscule smile tugging his lips with exasperation.

“Good… That’s good…”

He failed.

All of the stress that had built within him from this situation was now being released _. Damn, this woman is gonna kill me…_

Mercy’s eyes never left his face as he changed positions, a seriousness coming over hers.

“…You didn’t answer… my question.”

Still continuing to rub his exhaustion and amusement away, Reyes answered, “I’m not hurt, Doc.”

“…Then why were you… occupying a patient’s bed?” the woman was straining to talk, her normally light voice sounding rather gravely. She just wanted to go back to sleep, but she needed to understand the situation, so she pushed herself to speak.

He was silent for a second before meeting her azure eyes. God, she was obviously struggling just to stay conscious. Why is she feeling chatty all of a sudden? _Why is she worrying about me instead of herself?_

He sighed again.

“So in case something like this happened, I’d be here.” His voice was weirdly quiet, a bit of vulnerability seeping through.

It honestly concerned her.

“Something like what…?” Her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at him expectantly.

Reyes stood quickly, sticking his hands in his pockets as he kept his back to her.

“Let’s leave it there, Doc,” he spoke after a slight pause, trying to stay off of the subject for some reason. “How are you feeling?”

Mercy sighed softly as she looked back up to the ceiling, pain once again gnawing at her thoughts.

“Unwell.”

There was a brief silence. A small moment of tranquility between them. The fact that they were both alive rang in their ears via the gentle beep of her heartbeat. Something they could find comfort in.

After a minute of calm quietness, curiosity took over the Doctor’s brain as she pondered to distract herself of her injuries.

“Reyes…” she began softly, “we are in the most guarded section of this building… How did you get in here?”

This woman was still sharp, even when bedridden. She knew better than anyone that ICU patients weren’t allowed visitors during night hours.

“I have my ways,” was all he offered with a sideway smirk.

Seeing such an expression, caused her to smile gently back. The beginnings of laughter tickling her lips before she grimaced from her diaphragm’s movement.

Reyes saw this and his tiny smile immediately dropped.

There was a long silence of meaningful eye contact. Dark brown staring at light blue, light blue staring at dark brown. Usually the woman was able to read him. He didn’t like talking much so it made their friendship easy. But this time her mind was preoccupied with an encompassing ache that clouded her judgement. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. The only emotion she could see in those piercing pupils was _pain_. Different for her own, but just as harmful.

“Reyes…” she began, her normal professional air coming back to her, “Can you hand me my medical charts?” Her eyes flickered to the tray on the side of her bed to indicate where they normally reside.

Reyes shoulders became slightly ridged at her words. A noticeable moment passed before he languidly reached for the pristine clipboard and held it out in front of her.

His hesitation caused the Doctor to become apprehensive. The sensation of ice settling in her gut swallowed through her mind.

After a brief pause, she struggled to muster enough strength to lift her arm. The woman noticed something odd about her hand. Other than the IV connected to her, her whole appendage was shaking. Uncontrollably so.

The Doctor pumped her hands slowly in order to stop them, but they only continued to tremor. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight. She had always had a steady hand. Even when she hadn’t slept for days, she still could do a surgery successfully. She shouldn’t be having this reaction to a gunshot. Her emotions weren’t getting the best of her, why was her trembling so severe?

This only fuelled her desire to examine her own medical charts.

Once she finally grabbed hold of the familiar plastic, she brought the blurry words closer to her face. However, she needed to rest the board against her lap in order to hold the papers still.

Reyes observed her as she read. He could see in her cool eyes that she was trying her best to stay focused on the text in front of her. She took a second to comprehend the document, her mind moving a bit slower than normal, but still at an above average rate. He saw how her eyes widened the further she read down the page. Hastily flipping through the clipboard’s contents, well as hastily as she could with such a jittery hold.

She let out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding, almost as shaky as her digits. Letting the clipboard fall to the side, she allowed her head to lie back against the pillow as she stared into the air. Letting her thoughts consuming her.

Reyes stayed quiet. He sat on the bedside chair, looking at the floor instead of her.

“…How long?” the woman finally broke the silence after what felt like an eternity.

The Commander took a deep breath, taking off his favorite hat to run his hand through his shaved hair. A subtle nervous tick he’d always had.

“Mercy, you’ve been in a coma for the past two weeks.” He wasn’t very good at being subtle and it was obviously apparent at this moment.

Her face immediately hardened as the words pierced her eardrums. She had trained herself over the years to not show emotion even when she received detrimental news. It was her most commonly used doctor skill.

Although no matter how calm she appeared, her heart betrayed her. The beeping of the organ’s monitor began to pick up speed as adrenaline rushed through her. Unfortunately, it was the only sound present in the room.

After a long while, she finally spoke again, “Two weeks…” she looked out the window as she voiced her thoughts, “That’s fairly average for a coma induced by head trauma.... I am assuming that it was from the fall… There is a severe ache in my shoulders. They most likely took the brunt of the impact… while my head was hit from the whiplash of the crash… The bullet needed surgical removal. It penetrated my liver, which naturally has regenerative properties. But they were unable to save my right kidney. Thankfully a person only needs one to survive. Since I have been unconscious for two weeks… the initial healing process has already begun-”

“Angela,” Reyes cut off her ramblings with a rather grounded voice.

The Doctor only continued to stare at the black window to her right. She relied on her knowledge to comprehend the situation. This was her form of shock. She retreated into thoughts of facts, something she was comfortable in. Her work was like a safe haven to escape her emotions.

Reyes stayed silent as he wiped the stray tear that escaped her left eye before it rolled past her cheekbone. He kept his thumb there for a moment longer, feeling the soft skin that was once sliced from an enemy knife before pulling away.

After a long, heavy silence, Mercy finally spoke.

“Angela…” the woman repeated softly. She slowly turned her head to look at him. “…I noticed that you said it earlier too… You never call me by that name…”

Reyes hadn’t even noticed that he said her first name. He immediately averted his eyes, suddenly finding something on the wall very interesting.

“It was the only name you would respond to,” he spoke quietly, more mumbling to himself than to her.

“I see…” the woman then gave him a weak yet warm smile, “I like that much more than ‘Ziegler.’”

Reyes looked back to her, her expression filled his chest with an unusual warmth. His lips tweaked upwards ever so slightly in response.

“Rodger that.”

They stayed in that feeling of calm trust for a minute more before being forced back to the subject at hand. Reyes was the one to break the silence this time.

“Angela,” he tested the permanent name on his tongue, “Do you remember what happened?”

The woman paused, closing her eyes as she tried to recall. Exhaustion and sleep threatening to take hold of her again, but she forced her mind to work. She focused back on the battlefield, replaying what she remembered. Reyes gave her cover as she flew to Reinhardt. She healed all of the Overwatch agents before scanning the field. She saw Ana-

She gasps sharply at the realization before snapping her head back to Reyes. Instantly regretting the action as pain flooded her system again. She had to wait once again for the pain to subside before she was able to speak.

“R-Reyes… what happened to Ana?! I was not able to reach her before… before I was shot…” Her words slowed as her mind replayed the look of her friend lying in her own blood as she cradled her injured eye. She couldn't control the shiver that crawled up her spine.

The Commander was silent for a moment. She seemed so shaken right now. He didn’t want to be the one to deliver the news, but he knew that she needed to know.

“Ana…” he took a breath before continuing, his usual bluntness coming forth, “Ana is missing in action.”

The injured woman froze. It felt like she had taken another physical blow. Ana, someone who acted like a second mother to her, was missing. She might be dead for all she knew.

Her breathing began to pick up, all thoughts of staying calm going out the window.

“I… I couldn’t save her…”

A rush of emotions tore through her all at once. Helplessness, Guilt, Anger, they all had their way with her disheveled mind.

“How could she do this… She was one of _us_. How could she kill someone she knew?? They _trained_ together; they knew each other so well. I don’t understand how she could do this to Ana. How she could shoot _me_!”

Reyes was taken aback by the normally composed woman’s panic. Her whole body was shaking; she even was grabbing her muddled head. Her overactive thoughts causing her both physical and emotion pain.

He quickly stood from the chair, taking ahold of her shoulders once again as he tried to calm her like in her previous attack.

“Mercy… Mercy.” He tried to get her to look at him, but she was too caught up in her frantic mindset that she didn’t even notice his efforts. “Angela,” he attempted again, “What are you talking about? Who shot you?” He tried to keep his voice steady, but he needed to know. He needed to know what Son of a Bitch would dare shoot the Angel.

She was hyperventilating. Her heartbeat monitor was blaring even more than it did when she first awakened. Her body was almost convulsing in pain from this overreaction. This was too much for her in her weakened state.

Reyes could hear alarmed nurses rushing down the hall toward her room.

He needed to get out of here.

Fast.

But he couldn’t leave her when she was panicking like this.

The woman finally looked up to him, her azure eyes displaying her inner turmoil. Her face pale from fear rather than injury.

“…Amélie…” she whispered before a group nurses burst through the door.

Reyes only had enough time to duck under her bed before she was swarmed with the medical staff.

He heard the nurses attempting to console the ‘shocked coma patient,’ however she did not comply. She was unintentionally straining her injuries in her alarm. The desire to reveal himself was becoming overwhelming as he heard her strangled cries. He knew that he could talk her down from this fit, but that would mean getting discovered by the nurses. His frustration began to grow as he stayed motionless under the cover of furniture.

He heard the nurses decide the best course of action would be to sedate her. The sound of her small gasp from the needle, and her release of air as she was pulled under again were louder than anything else in the chaotic room.

His anger began to stew inside him as he laid a mattress apart from her.

As she drifted back into blissful unawareness, he was becoming sickeningly aware of the dangers that lie ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this is late. It took me a long time to finish this chapter... I had been in a rut recently. I didn't know where else to take this story, but I took some time and was able to plan out the next 3 chapters! I hope this chapter wasn't too slow. I guess it was a catch-up chapter more than anything! As I said last time, I am a slow writer so it may take a while for me to update again, but I will work diligently to bring you more soon! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> (Shout-out to my roommate for being awesome and beta-reading this chapter for me!)


	7. Chapter 7

“Damnit!”

The enraged word bounced off the walls of the empty training facility.

Reyes slumped forward with his hands resting on his knees, twin shotguns still in his grip. He tried to slow his breathing after another failure. He steeled himself after another minute, gaining back his composure before standing up straight once again.

“Athena, ready more training bots.” He called into the air.

Winston had installed the newly developed Artificial Intelligence into the Overwatch Headquarter’s mainframe. Many members of the organization were hesitant when Winston presented his invention, since the Omni Crisis was still fresh in everyone’s mind. However since it’s creation three months ago, Athena proved to be a fairly reliable program with rarely any errors. Even Reyes had to admit that the different branches weren’t as efficiently run due to Athena’s absence.

“Are you sure, Commander? This is your seventeenth attempt. The serotonin levels in your bloodstream have dramatically increased over the past hour.” Athena’s soothing yet robotic voice warned, monitoring him throughout his training session.

Reyes’ annoyance began to grow at the lecture. His muscle fatigue was present, but this was nothing new to him.

He could go without rest longer than anyone else in this facility. Well, if you excluded his fellow super solider: the beloved Jack Morrison.

The Blackwatch Commander scowled as his thoughts drifted to the blonde male. A new fire built within him that fueled his determination.

“Ready the bots,” he growled as he took the proper position, both shotguns held at shoulder height.

“Training Bots deployed,” Athena’s voice announced as six easily assemble-able robots rose from underground platforms. The Training Bots encircled the man, floating patiently at a fairly close range. The best range for maximum damage.

There was a moment of silence, only the soft hum of mechanical beings filled the space.

Reyes closed his eyes as he exhaled lowly, trying to center himself.

He could feel the familiar weight of his prized guns in his hands. The coolness of their metal comforted him as he barely tapped the trigger, testing how much force he could apply without setting them off. He shifted his weight ever so slightly, making sure he was standing on the balls of his feet but was still grounded enough for his gun’s recoil. A bead of sweat that had been collecting on his brow slid down his temple as he stood in tense stillness.

He inhaled sharply as he pulled the first trigger, aiming at the Bot in front of him as he twisted his body to hit the one behind him as well.

That was the simple part; his training made it hard to flank him.

He continued through the motion, spinning around rapidly as if he were creating a dance of death while still attempting to hit the other four targets

He couldn’t keep his precision up, missing from the speed of the dizzying movement. By the end of his seventeenth trial, he had hit four of the six targets. Much better than when he started, but still not good enough.

The man growled in frustration, slamming the butt of his gun against one of the still standing Bots out of sheer anger.

Why couldn’t he get this? It was so easy, so natural back on the battlefield. He shot every member of the Talon Search Team dead in the matter of seconds. And they were all at different distances from him. These Training Dummies were only two meters away and he still couldn’t land a hit on more than half of them.

Reyes stewed in his anger a moment longer, letting thoughts of exasperation consume him before glaring at the ceiling.

“Athena, Ready more Bots.”

The AI instead dimmed the lights, only having a few illuminating the spacious room from below.

“Commander Reyes, due to protocol I am restricted from accomplishing your request. Please vacate the area until tomorrow morning.” Athena spoke before the noise of shut down filled the training grounds.

The exit door slid open automatically, allowing more light to stream inside the darkened area. Reyes had no other choice than to follow the path of ground lights toward the opened passageway and into the armory.

He unloaded both of his shotguns, an action so common for him he could do it with his eyes closed. The Commander placed them in their designated racks before replacing the unused bullets in the correct cabinet, grumbling about the AI’s attitude the entire time.

The man then made his way to the adjacent locker room, going to his storage space on autopilot. He typed in the extensive code into the keypad, gaining an approving beep before opening it. Only an extra pair of clothes and a towel resided within. He didn’t care for clutter, so he kept both his quarters and locker filled with only necessities.

Reyes grabbed all of the locker’s contents before heading to the showers. He waited for the temperature increase by easily stripping his black T-shirt and cargo pants. Once he tested the water, he slipped into the warm liquid, letting it slide down his aching shoulders. A breath of contentment escaped him.

Showers were a luxury nowadays. He would go out on missions for weeks at a time with only a cold cloth to wipe off any dirt. So whenever the chance to have an actual shower arose, he took it.

After letting his body heat, he began to wash off the sweat that formed from his extensive training. More like extensive failures. He couldn’t replicate what he did three weeks ago. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t get the flow of his movements to match the unique attack he achieved earlier.

He was never a graceful man. If anything he was the opposite, stiff and solid. It felt like he was possessed when he slaughtered all those agents so easily.

The Commander continued to ponder as he washed his shaved short hair, letting the water heighten his thoughts.

He began to do a play by play of what happened. It all occurred so fast, he had to really focus back and slow down the blur of his previous erratic thoughts.

Mercy was shot.

Mercy fell.

Even now anger started building within him, but even more than anger was something he didn’t want to admit to himself: fear. He was honestly terrified. Frozen and helpless in fear. The vivid image of her blood soaked body crumpled on the ground flashed through his mind.

He took a second to remember that she was fine. Well maybe ‘fine’ was pushing it. But she was awake.

She was alive.

He tried to focus back on the warzone as he shut off the shower and reached for the hanging towel.

The Talon agents came to dispose of her. He continued to stand like a coward. He swore to himself that he would protect her during the battle. _Look how well that turned out_. She was lying in a goddamn hospital bed right now thanks to her carelessness. Thanks to his uselessness.

The enemy was so close to taking her, taking her from this realm before he finally reacted.

He shot that shithead in the face.

And that’s where it happened.

That extremely powerful tactic unfolded.

Mercy was safe underneath him. That’s all that mattered in the moment, and that was all that his memories could give him about the onslaught.

Reyes grunted in frustration as his thoughts once again came to a standstill.

He finished drying himself off before slipping on the fresh clothes quickly. The man left the showers to place his dirty clothes back into his locker. He would take them out once he brought a new pair to replace the ones he was wearing now.

The Commander closed the locker once more, resetting the code before he glanced up at the clock, 2:37am.

He sighed as he made his way to the usual place.

 

 

It didn’t take long for him to reach the medical building. He had gotten in the habit of going there every night since the accident. Even now that Mercy was out of her coma, he came diligently.

The man was still in possession of the lousy Doctor’s keycard ever since he stole it the first night. What was gonna do? Gift wrap it for the jackass? Hell no. So he kept it and used it daily.

After he had made his usual way inside via dodging security and personnel, Reyes made a beeline to Mercy’s room. He swiped said card before quietly closing the door behind him.

When he turned back around, he was surprised to see that the woman was still awake. Not only was she up, her bed was littered with medical charts and various other paperwork.

Reyes let out an audible noise of displeasure, his hand automatically rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Good Evening, Reyes,” was her short reply, not even looking up from the paper she was currently reading.

“Its morning, Doc,” the man replied curtly, going over to his normal chair and sitting heavily into it.

That was the reality check that caused her to actually raise her head from the charts and look out the window. It was no longer sunset and was completely dark outside. She immediately returned her cobalt eyes to the text in front of her.

“So it is.”

The normal amount of silence filled the room.

Reyes always liked to watch her as she worked. Her eyebrows were drawn together with concentration. Her lips pursed gently, almost in a small pout. Her shining blue eyes would flicker across the page, but he could tell she was absorbing every detail from just a quick look. Even when she was still in recovery, she was the best damn Doctor in the whole building.

But that ticked him off even more.

She was supposed to be resting, but what does she do instead? Look at patient’s medical charts, not even her own medical charts. Those were memorized about two days ago. She had even unplugged herself from all of the machinery around her for better efficiency. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Angela, why aren’t you asleep?” the anger bubbling up from his chest and landing in his voice.

The Doctor still continued to rifle through papers as she spoke, “I have already been unconscious for two weeks. I am making up for lost time,” she took out the pen that was resting behind her ear, “besides, I already slept earlier today.”

Annoyance was prominent on the Soldier's face, although he was not able to rebuttal with the fact that she had previously slept.

He watched her work a bit longer, however something unusual caught his eye. Her hand was shaking as she tried to write down notes.

She had already been awake for four days; even he knew that was odd.

He now paid more attention to the paper she held in her other hand. There was a slight tremor there too.

Her normally neat handwriting was extremely messy. Despite the fact he couldn’t understand German, he knew how the curves of the language were supposed to look. What was on the page appeared more like chicken scratch than the swooping font she naturally produced.

His eyes glanced up at her face. He could see how her jaw was clenched. How her eyebrows grew even closer together. How her light eyes were darkened slightly as she glared at the pen’s work.

She was frustrated.

Something else was wrong with her.

The Doctor let out a slight huff, letting the pen fall to the side.

After a brief moment of stillness, she began collecting the scattered paperwork with an unsteady hand. Placing all of the documents in a neat pile and setting them on the table next to her. Wordlessly, she lifted the sheets from her legs, allowing them to gingerly swing over the side of the bed. The woman winced slightly from the motion.

Reyes stared at her with apprehension, sitting straighter in his seat.

“What are you doing?” he asked, a bit of scolding in his tone.

Mercy sat on the edge of the bed, now facing him fully.

“…I need the remainder of this document. It’s on my desk,” she grunted, slight pain making its way to her face as she pushed herself up on her hands.

“ _Seriously?_ Its almost 3AM!” Reyes exclaimed frustration growing even more. He instantly stood as soon as he saw the woman’s troubling expression, placing his larger hands on her shoulders to attempt to push her back down. “You shouldn’t even be walking on your own.”

“I’m fine…” she replied breathlessly, resisting him was difficult when she was well. It was much more difficult now that she was recuperating. Mercy began batting his hands away gently, “I walked there by myself earlier.”

Reyes was persistent, but still tried to be gentle with the injured woman. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt her.

Tired of the constant pressure against her shoulders, she eventually just grabbed onto his shirt, effectively stilling his movements. The wounded woman mustered enough strength to pull herself up via his clothing. Suddenly occuping the space between Reyes and the bed, which wasn’t much to begin with.

They were close.

Very, _very_ close.

Their chests were pressed against each other as she kept a steadying grip on his black tee. Their noses were only a centimeter apart. Their breath began to intermingle. Her breathing was heavy like she had just finished an intense work out, while his was shallow as if something was constricting his lungs. The woman’s deep blue eyes fluttered up to look at his brown, he could feel her long eyelashes tickle his cheek.

They stared at each other in silence.

Reyes was about to speak again before Mercy released his shirt and made her first step toward the door. Leaving him to stand frozen incomprehension.

She had taken a total of two wobbly steps before toppling over, knees giving out from under her.

_Shit._

The man snapped back to reality instantly, grabbing her arm securely as his other arm found its way around her waist. Reyes helped ease her to the floor instead of crashing face first on the tile.

“Jesus! What the hell was that?! ‘I walked by myself,’ what a load of bullshit!” He yelled, snapping at her for that little stunt.

Yet once he looked down to her face, he could see she was actually in pain. Her bright eyes had a cloudy glaze to them since she was still enraptured with dizziness. Sweat was forming on her wrinkled brow as she grimaced. The woman tried to support herself on weak hands as her shaky knees tucked themselves under her in a lady-like fashion.

Even though she almost ate the floor, she still had the nerve to look elegant.

The Commander immediately allowed her to rest back against him in her weak state, keeping his arm around her mid-back for support.

Her head rested against his shoulder for a moment as she tried to regain her senses and breath.

Mercy took in his scent; the musk of gunpowder always followed him. She never thought that the triggering odor, one that usually filled her mind with war-torn memories, would be so soothing.

She could feel how hard his pectoral muscles were. Of course she knew that they were well defined from her medical examinations, but she didn’t know _how_ well defined. She could feel every other muscle against her small frame. From his brachioradialis firmly around her waist, to his quadriceps resting against hers. The Doctor allowed herself to sink into him as she relaxed, trying to quell her injured body.

After a moment of calm stillness, Reyes turned her slightly in his hold to urge her to look up at him.

“Angela,” he spoke, his tone already commanding, “What’s wrong with you? I can’t read jack-shit from your charts, so I need you to tell me.”

The Doctor seemed reluctant to answer, averting her eyes once more as her lips parted slightly to speak. All that left her was a sigh. She stared back up into his fierce eyes, trying to convey the news through those azure orbs.

From what he could tell, it wasn’t good. The look on her face made adrenaline pulse through his body, he unconsciously tightening his hold on her.

“… My Cerebellum is damaged from the crash,” she murmured. He didn’t know what exactly that meant until she elaborated. “The Cerebellum controls both motor skills and balance. If my motor skills are affected, which they most definitely are, then I am not able to fulfill _any_ of the duties my career requires. I am not able to use any technologies such as computers or machinery for running tests, I am not able to operate on any patients, I can’t even write!”

Her volume only continued to grow, her true emotions surfacing. She had always been the type to hold everything in, even around him. It was like a severely cracked dam of pent-up emotions had finally burst. Now that the waters of worry were released, she was not able to stop them from overflowing.

“What good am I if I cannot heal the injured? My research can’t go anywhere without me. What if the damage done is permanent? What if-“

Her normally level and calming voice broke, the emotions were becoming too much for her. The woman quickly hid her face with hair and shadow as her eyes began to sparkle with newfound wetness. A few tears escaped their prison before her back convulsed with silent sobs.

In all their years of working together, Reyes has never seen Zieglar cry. Truly cry. Just the sight of her trembling on the ground caused a mix of emotions to stir within him: shock, anger, pain, confusion, _helplessness_.

No. He would not feel helpless. _Not this time._

He awkwardly wrapped his arms completely around her thin figure, pulling her closer to his stiff chest.

The world was not as bright and happy as people want to believe and she was finally realizing that. The world will swallow you up in tragedy after tragedy. The world is full of people who only use you then drop you as soon as they are finished. It was best not to get invested in things like friendships or relationships.

And yet, why did Reyes feel the need to calm her fears? Why did he feel the need to let her burden him with her thoughts? Why did he feel the need to share his problems in return?

He kept the solid hold on her, hoping it was enough to reassure her.

The sudden, unusual affection caused the woman to stiffen. A tiny gasp escaped her as she was pulled closer to his warmth. His attempt to comfort her was bumbling and uncertain, but Mercy allowed it just the same. She attempted to regulate her breathing in order to gain back composure, gradually relaxing in his hold as the sound of his heartbeat calmed her further.

They stayed like that for a while longer. Not wanting to speak in fear of breaking the fragile moment of trust and the beginnings of another unidentifiable emotion. So they stayed, silently huddled on the ground as they both committed the feeling of the other to memory.

Reyes was the first to pull away, yet he still supported her as she lay. He was not use to such intimate contact and even though it was oddly pleasant, he couldn’t stay there for long.

“Ang-” he began to speak, before she immediately cut him off.

“I apologize for my unprofessional behavior, Commander. You may leave.”

Silence.

The Doctor had rebuilt the wall guarding her emotions at an incomprehensible speed. Although, the speed hindered the quality of her construction.

“Angela,” Reyes repeated, taking both of her shoulders into his large hands in order to make the woman face him. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you.”

The seriousness of his tone caught her off-guard. She felt her heart contract for a moment as she stared at his stone-like expression.

Many people had told her those exact words in the past, but there was something different when they came from Reyes. The difference was she believed him.

“Listen," the man continued again, "you need to think about your condition as if you were a random patient. If you read the charts of a Ms. Angela Zieglar, _Miss_ not Doctor, what would you recommend?”

She paused for a moment, truly thinking it over. He waited patiently for her to solve this puzzle.

“…I would suggest…” she started slowly, “a few weeks of physical therapy... I-She would need to have it fairly frequently in order to strengthen and regain the lost fine motor movement needed for her daily routine. I would also recommend some doses of nanotechnology to help speed the recovery process.”

Reyes unknowingly let a gentle expression to take over his face, one along the lines of pride.

“There you go, Doc,” he hummed after she had finished.

Two chest awakened with a flutter. 

They both reveled in the other's rare smile of true joy. A look that neither had seen in a long time.

The switch of Mercy, the Angel of Overwatch, had been turned off. The switch of Dr. Ziegler, top surgeon in the world, had been turned off. All that was left was the dusty, underused switch of Angela. 

Angela allowed tears to well in her eyes once again, but Angela did not turn away. Angela allowed the man in front of her to gaze at her unguarded heart through those shining blue windows.

“Thank you, Gabriel,” was the whisper that rang as clear as a day in the darkened hospital room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! I will probably try to update every two weeks instead of once a week because college is consuming my life. I actually had to split this chapter into two because it was becoming too lengthy, so I apologize if the ending was a little lack luster. But I hope that this chapter was interesting enough even though it doesn't hold all I wanted it to. Anyway thank you again for reading!
> 
> (Shout-out to my friends for beta-reading and helping me get through this monster of a chapter!)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter has graphic descriptions of gore and injury. If you are squeamish, be careful while you read.

Reyes gently placed the woman back into her hospital bed, letting her long legs slide underneath the cotton sheets. Angela winced slightly as she attempted to lie back, but he continued to support her shoulders until her head hit the pillow.

It was astonishing how easily he was able to scoop up her fairly standard physique into his firm arms. She didn’t even have to wrap her own slender limbs around his powerful neck in the process, except she did in order to remain polite and professional.

The woman closed her eyes for a moment as she relaxed into the mattress, letting her body settle from aches and pains that made themselves present. For the past 24 hours, she had refused any pain medication. She was starting to regret it now.

Reyes heavily sat in his chair, leaning his weight forward with his elbows upon his knees. He would have thought she was sleeping if not for her quickened breath and the small grimace ghosting over her features. He let her regain some composure from their discussion on the floor before breaking the stifling silence.

“…Do you need anything?” he offered gruffly, but with kindness lacing his tone.

The woman let her eyes flutter open, her gaze locked onto the white ceiling as she thought about her options. Would it be better to keep silent or inform him? No, that shouldn’t even be a question anymore. She had already decided that Reyes was a confidant.

After another deep inhale, she turned her head toward her newfound companion with seriousness glinting in her cobalt eyes. “Sutures,” was her short, monotonous response.

Once again, quietness engulfed the room.

“Wait, _what_?” Reyes barked. He was expecting her to ask for an extra pillow or a glass of water, not medical equipment.

“I popped my stitches when I fell forward,” Mercy elaborated in her usual matter-of-fact tone.

The Commander let out an embittered laugh as his palm kneaded his aching forehead, the customary position for him these past few days. _You gotta to be fucking kidding me…_

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“At the time, I didn’t think it was vital information.”

“Damn right, its vital!” the man yelled, as he shot out of his chair. Almost knocking over the flimsy furniture in his haste.

Reyes took long, anger-driven strides toward the door, grumbling under his breath the entire way.

“Where are you going?” she interrupted muffled yet still heated tirade, “The sutures are located on the medical tray.” She nodded her head in the direction of the mobile stainless steel table.

Reyes turned on his heel to face the insufferable woman.

“I’m going to get a nurse. There is no fucking way I’m letting you stitch yourself up, _especially_ when you’ve just told me you can’t legally do surgeries!”

The female’s face immediately hardened; her cool aura washed over the room like an icy breeze.

“If you go out to find the medical staff at this hour, you will immediately be escorted off the premises and be suspended from entering for a week,” the Head of Medical Research explained. “Besides, nurses are not certified to preform such a procedure on Intensive Care patients, you would need to grab a Doctor. Since it is almost three in the morning, there is only one physician assigned to this Unit. I believe tonight’s physician is Dr. Ridley.”

The Doctor knew the Blackwatch Commander only understood the basics for her Department, while she knew every Nurse, Doctor, schedule and protocol. Dr. Ziegler kept a professional tone as she bargained with him. “If you still intend to get said surgeon, keep in mind that he has warned me specifically to only call during an emergency. Since I am not in critical condition, I do not label this as an ‘emergency.’”

The man stared at her stone-faced exterior for a moment. When the ‘Angel’ was in her element she was a force to be reckoned with. However, skepticism became present on his furrowed brow.

“…Why did he give you a ‘warning?’” the Commander rebutted, trying to find a weak spot in her polished armor.

There was an unnatural pause in her typical wittiness.

 _Bingo_.

The woman discreetly averted her eyes as she answered his question, “I may have set off my patient alarm in order to get access to medical files,” She steadily lost her authoritative cadence as the sentence continued. “…several times.”

Reyes allowed an infinitesimal smirk to tweak his lips, yet his victory was easily hidden with facial hair.

Although he had won the battle, the Doctor did bring up some valid points. If he was escorted off again, he could effortlessly sneak inside again like he had been for the past few nights. But Mercy was such a goodie-two-shoes that she would demand for him to leave. Same goes if he actually did find a nurse, the Department Head wouldn’t allow any of her employees to commit a code violation. Particularly if that patient is herself. As for the last detail, Reyes reached into his pocket and pulled out the medical ID still in his possession.

_For fuck’s sake…_

‘Dr. Emit Ridley’ was printed neatly on the top of the keycard. It was the same asshole surgeon who took five years to operate on Mercy when she first arrived, _and_ whom the Commander had threatened while he pinned the Doctor against the wall. Receiving his help seemed unlikely, especially when the persistent woman had already repeatedly cried wolf.

Reyes let out a heavy sigh as he removed his beanie tiredly; hand methodically running over his buzz cut. After his train of thought arrived at the station, the man reluctantly trudged back to her hospital bed, dragging the wheeled table behind him.

“Fine. Then what do we do?” he griped as his arms crossed over his broad chest.

The Doctor paused as she contemplated, then looked up to his displeased face once she had a solution in mind.

“Since you have deemed me incapable of giving myself something as simple as stitches, I will need you to do it,” the Doctor had the nerve to stare him dead in the eye as she spoke in a nonchalant manner.

The Commander’s jaw clenched at her response.

“…You want _me_ to stitch you up?” Reyes questioned in bewilderment.

Mercy nodded as she reasoned, “You are the only one who is available and won’t faint at the sight of blood.”

As usual, the person with a doctorate made a good argument. He had seen buckets of blood in his time, so a little now wouldn’t startle him. But he had only done small patch up work on the field, never something as intricate as giving a row of stitches.

The woman snapped him out of his thoughts with a small grunt as she once again attempted to push herself up to a sitting position. She relied on her arms to complete the action instead of using her abdominal muscles to lessen the pain.

Reyes was immediately at her side, placing a steady hand on her lower back to grudgingly assist her.

She wasn’t going to stop pushing herself, that was for sure. He had no choice but to help the stubborn woman before she kills herself.

Once she was finally upright, Mercy attempted to reach behind her neck in order to untie the top of her green hospital gown. However the action sent a jolt of pain through her aching shoulders. Her back arched instinctively which caused the tearing skin of her stomach to stretch roughly.

Reyes hastily but easily brushed her hand away with his before she harmed herself more, signaling that he was the only one allowed to move.

After a quick glare backwards, she subsequently returned her hands to rest on her lap in a delicate manner.

Once he realized he had a bad angle to untie the equally relentless knot, The Commander flipped the white switch near the headboard to shift the slanted mattress lateral. The bed slowly made its descent to become parallel with the floor.

Mercy promptly sat a little straighter once she felt his weight upon the luxurious medical cot behind her. She released the tension in her muscles and absentmindedly let out a soft sigh as she felt his calloused fingertips brush against the exposed skin of her neck. Her blue eyes drifted closed as she focused on the touch.

Reyes was able to untie the knot with ease now that he sat in a better position. A few rebellious strands of blonde escaped her hair-tie and brushed against his fingers as he worked. His hands stayed on the laces for a moment longer then necessary before he swiftly retracted them.

Then he waited, not sure how to proceed.

Once the second of serene stillness passed, Mercy turned her head to look back at him through her peripherals. “I’ll need you to help me remove the garment as well,” she notified calmly.

_Right._

He gave a quick nod before he silently peeled the gown open. He expected to see the light cream of her neck continue down the rest of her back, but what he was confronted with make his breath catch in his throat.

The skin of her slender shoulders was littered with large dark purple blotches. Speckles of red were scatted over the abrasion and an under layer of blue peeked through the normally white canvas. Even three weeks after the incident, they looked like they were still fresh. The only indication that the wounds had aged was the yellow and green tint that surrounded the more damaged areas.

Reyes remained silent as he went back to the task at hand and continued to move the hospital covering downward. The more of her body he revealed, the tighter his stomach became. The man sat and stared at the Angel’s tarnished back once the gown pooled around her hips.

His eyes followed the slope of her spine. Gravity had already pulled the trapped blood downward causing streaks of purple past her ribs. The only relief he got from the sudden color overload was the crisp, white bandages wrapped securely around her lithe waist.

“…God, Mercy…” the man breathed almost inaudibly.

The Doctor wordlessly began to remove the gauze; her shoulder blades stretched the pigmented skin in a painful fashion.

Reyes hurriedly encircled her torso with his tanned arms, causing the woman to tense slightly. While she stiffened, Reyes took the opportunity to snatch the bundled white cloth from the headstrong woman’s grasp. He slowly brought the bandage around and around to free the bleeding wound of its confines. Soon his hands were full of the long cloth material, the latter sections stained a stark red.

Once he had completed the deed, he went back to examining the completely exposed back of the wounded woman in front of him. Reyes had never realized the extent of her injuries before visually displaying them. He knew her list of ailments was incredibly long, but nothing puts it in perspective like seeing it for himself. And he was only looking at her back; the front is where the real damage was inflicted.

Hatred began to spread within his chest, hatred for the bitch who caused this harm.

All cards were off the table at this point. He didn’t care that she was Gerard’s wife. That bastard was dead. Why would he care what happens to his murderer? In fact, he would be grateful to Reyes for returning his spouse to him.

“Reyes, I’m going lie down now. Please turn around,” the Doctor’s smooth voice brought him out of his darkening thoughts.

“What?” the Commander grunted rather harshly.

“My breasts are not covered,” were the words that caused everything to come to a standstill.

It didn’t even occur to him that the woman was not wearing a bra until she mentioned her indecency. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to wear one with the bandages and bruising all over her torso. He only now noticed that she covered her chest with her arms as she sat.

There was a long, awkward silence before Reyes had the courage to stand. Quickly, he faced the empty wall while his muscled back faced her. The Commander clenched his fists in something similar to embarrassment as he denied the warmth that dared to surface on his cheeks.

Angela was forced to uncover her bust in order to slowly help lie herself down, taking the thin sheet covering her legs in one hand as she went. A small grunt escaped her lips as she unintentionally stretched the reopened wound. Without the bandages to close and support the gash, the pain once again resurfaced with vigor. She allowed her arms to give way when her waist was against the mattress; Falling back until her head hit the pillow with a soft groan. After a brief second to calm her screaming nerves, she draped the blanket across her chest to once again provide dignity.

“…Alright,” the woman spoke, giving the man permission to look.

Reyes waited a beat before turning back, not anticipating the woman to lie upon the mattress with the grace of an ancient statue. The white sheet was draped elegantly upon her chest as it cascaded to the tiled floor. However, his attention was immediately drawn to the red festering wound instead of how delicate the Angel appeared.

Peeking underneath crimson liquid, he could see similar bruising engulfed the slice in purples, greens and yellows. From what he could tell, not all of the stitches had burst. Three of the seven stitches were still intact, black threads sticking out raised skin in every direction. The part of the incision that had reopened was an angry red with new blood gushing slowly like a lazy fountain.

His examination was cut short via the assisting Doctor’s dose of reality, “To treat the wound, you will need clean the blood and apply some antiseptic to sterilize the cut.”

She met the Commander’s eye, incomprehension visible in those dark orbs. His gaze shifted from her to the medical tray to his left. He grazed many of the utensils with uncertainty before grabbing a clean cloth.

 _Alright, one step at a time,_ she made a mental note.

Reyes pressed it upon her bleeding abdomen causing the woman to bite her lower lip to hold in a yelp of pain. He was applying too much pressure. The Commander was use to holding a bullet wound closed for a fellow solider to stop the heavy blood flow. But her former bullet didn’t need to be constrained to halt the small trickle of blood.

“…Reyes,” she grunted, “…Please stop…”

The man quickly tore his hands away, even stepping back from the injured woman as if his presence was enough to hurt her.

“Jesus, I’m already fucking up!” the beginnings of panic were expertly masked with frustration.

“No, no. You were doing fine,” the Doctor tried to calm him, as if speaking with a trainee doctor. “You just pressed down too hard, the incision is still sensitive.”

“Angela, you’re asking too much,” the man was already prickly.

He hated failure, much like her.

“Gabriel, I trust you.”

There was a small silence before she continued gently, “You are the most capable person I know. You encounter impossible situations everyday and always find a solution. Accomplishing things that I could never do: Strategizing an attack, leading an entire team, facing death head-on every time you go on a mission… These are incredible feats.”

Although this was the tone she normally took to comfort war-torn civilians, the woman smiled at him with sincerity. All of what she just said was true. She had the upmost respect for the Blackwatch Commander although she didn’t often voice it.

Angela kept that sweet timbre as she finished, “ _You_ were the one that saved me on the field, so I need _you_ to save me again.”

The two held eye contact for a long while, almost like another conversation only to be had through lengthy glances.

Reyes’ dark pupils were the ones to break away first. After another moment of stillness, he sliently folded the cloth in his hand to find a side not painted red. The man relinquished his uncertainty as he walked forward, gingerly wiping the gaping slice.

It only took a few tender swipes before the skin was externally clean of blood. He looked back to her face, waiting for his next instruction.

Mercy gave him a small, grateful smile before steeling herself to her usual professionalism. “Alright, now the antiseptic. It will be the blue bottle,” she informed coolly.

 

          

After finishing all of the primary procedures and briefing him on how to accomplish a stitch, Reyes now stood with a hooked needle in his right hand and a pair of forceps in the other. Mercy nodded to him slowly, a ‘go-ahead’ motion. The man held the needle close to the wound, preparing to puncture the woman in front of him. She could tell just from his pensive face that he was hesitant.

Angela placed her smaller, feminine hand on top of his larger, reluctant one as a form of comfort. She gave it a light squeeze. “Relax, this is just like giving an injection,” she attempted to reassure him.

The older male gave her a sideways glance, unamusement present in his scowl.

The Doctor realized her error, withdrew her hand and remained quiet.

Reyes wasn’t sure if he could really do this.

Stabbing someone with a knife was a lot easier. He didn’t care about the pain it caused the other person. But stabbing someone to fix something he would have normally caused was completely different for the Commander. He didn’t want to hurt the woman, but at this point he would have to. It was the only way to help her.

Her entire career as a Doctor finally made sense.

There was a small pause before he took a deep breath, piercing the damaged skin in a swift motion.

Mercy gasped at the sudden poke to her tender torso, hands grasping the thin sheets underneath her. She didn’t give herself any pain medication, since she needed to be aware to guide him through the ‘operation.’ Her features contorted in pain as she felt the needle make its way from one side of the wound to the other.

The aspiring physician unskillfully pinched the needle with forceps, loosely reuniting the separate sections of the epidermis. The Doctor, now patient, breathed out soft words of praise, “Good… You are doing well... Now please cut the medical thread and tie a firm knot to hold the skin in place.”

The Blackwatch member did as told, snipping the thick black thread before tying the ends together. The two brightly colored skin flaps rose from its flat surface and remain congruent per the knotted medical equipment. Reyes took it upon himself to trim the excess thread, replicating the original stitches to the best of his abilities.

Determination shone in his brown eyes as he followed the rest of her instructions explicitly. His thick brows knitted softly in concentration as he continued to work. He repeated the same motion three more times, trying to ignore her small squeaks.

He stepped away as soon as he had finished tying the last stitch, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. The soldier wiped the sweat collecting on his forehead as he looked down at his handiwork. There was a definite difference between the trained surgeon’s stitch and his own messy, uneven ones, but it would have to do for now.

“Excellent,” the Doctor applauded, “You did very well for your first time.”

“…Don’t ever ask me to do something like that again,” was Reyes drained response, "You owe me one."

He heard her weak, breath-taken laugh as he promptly strode over to the connected bathroom to wash his bloody hands free of burden.

Both of them were exhausted, it was past four in the morning and neither of them had gotten a wink of sleep.

Reyes returned to the woman with a slight slump in his shoulders, utterly wiped of all energy. However he still efficiently sat the woman back up, rewrapped the newly repaired sutures with gauze and laid her back down in record time. The man even carefully spread the thin sheet out upon the drowsy woman, shielding her from the cold air of the hospital room. A nurse would have to help her back into the hospital gown in the morning, which was quickly approaching.

The Commander stuffed his freshly cleaned hands into his pants pockets with a soft sigh. He looked down at Angela, her eyelids fighting the sleep she was obviously trying to avoid. Her peaceful expression was a nice change considering he had only seen winces from the Doctor for the past hour. The cotton blanket concealed her injuries once again, her pain hidden from the world as if it never existed to begin with.

Reyes turned to exit the silent ICU room, leaving her to drift on the shore of slumber. He flicked off the light switch to allow at least a few hours of darkness and cracked the door as quietly as possible. The Leader of the Blackwatch Unit slipped into the bright hallway effortlessly. A streak of light from the sliver of opened door illuminated Angela’s face as he continued to peek inside.

“Sweet dreams,” he murmured lowly, hoping that she wouldn’t hear him in her lucid state.

The door shut with a soft creak. He could finally return to his quarters for a bit of rest before the next overloaded day.

However the peace was broken with the loud buzz of rhythmic vibrations on his hip.

The Commander instinctively removed his emergency contactor from his belt and brought it up to view the blaring notification. His face immediately hardened as he skimmed over the holographic message.

_...Back to work._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the continuation of chapter 7! I hope that it wasn't too slow, since the chapter was split into two while I was writing it. Also, I know I am a day late with updating this chapter... I caught a really bad cold while I was trying to finish it up. Editing while running solely on flu medication was a train wreck! When I went back to it with a clear head it was like I wrote this chapter in a drunken stupor. Anyway, Thank you all for reading! This silly story has gotten 1000 hits!! That's completely insane! Its thanks to you guys for all of your sweet comments, kudos and bookmarks, that I stay motivated to keep writing. Thanks again! 
> 
> Side-note, a kind commenter notified me that I was spelling Mercy's surname wrong. I kept writing "Zieglar" instead of "Ziegler" which in completely my bad! Once I find time (and fully recover), I will go back and fix this mistake on my previous chapters.
> 
> (Shout-out to my lovely friends for beta-reading even with the threat of illness! <3)


	9. Chapter 9

“Commander,” the word peeked through the constant hum of the moving airship.

The man accused tilted his head upward, peeking out from under his favorite beanie from the gap between the black material and his nose. Once he recognized that the soldier standing in front of him was of no importance, he easily dismissed him by letting his chin tuck back to his chest. Tightening his loosely crossed his arms over his bulletproof vest as consciousness returned to him. Reyes slouched further in his seat before grumbling, “What is it, lieutenant?” His voice came out gruffer than usual thanks to the clingy edges of sleep.

“We are almost at the landing zone, sir,” was the younger man’s response, hurriedly saluting the higher-up.

The Blackwatch Commander sighed tiredly. He was hoping to catch a few more restful minutes in this secluded storage cabin, but father time was never on his side. Reluctantly, he sat a little straighter while fixing the hat to lay properly on his shaved head, his shoulders popping in response to the motion.

“Rally everyone on the main deck,” he commanded shortly, watching as the soldier annoyingly saluted again and went to fulfill his task.

Reyes stood up fully, giving his back a little twist to remedy the aches of napping while seated. The man started the mindless routine of patting himself down. Felt cool metal of his twin shotguns in their holders, felt extra ammo on his belt, felt the briefing papers in his back pocket, felt his communicator rested in his front left pocket, felt his-

The Blackwatch leader stilled his action, reaching down into the empty fabric of his front right pants pocket. His fingers wander from his pants to his hoodie only to find the absence of his Commander’s badge. He quickly sobered from his groggy state and mentally retraced his steps.

In all actuality, the badge didn’t hold that much importance. Everyone already knew his ranking, but it was a keepsake that he always held with him. Something he wouldn’t admit meant anything to him. Albeit, It reminded him how far he had come. Going from a kid in the Slums of Los Angeles to a Commander in the world’s largest military task force. Even though the metal was graced with the Blackwatch insignia instead of Overwatch’s. That was reserved for the Strike Commander. Which he was not.

However, his thought process was cut short by the sound of quiet sniggering to his left.

The Commander’s shoulders immediately squared as his eyes became slits of irritation. “McCree,” that one word sounded more like an order than a name.

A burst of laughter was the only response he got before the operative finally revealed himself from behind one of the weapon’s crates. The younger male attempted to curb his chortling but lingering chuckles still tickled his lips. All the while, the Blackwatch Commander loomed over the man, daggers being thrown by his gaze alone.

McCree had to wipe the forming tear from his eye as he let out a final pleased sigh, walking toward the taller man in languid strides. “…Y-you…” a small burst of laughter interrupted his sentence; “…You shoulda seen the look on yer face, Capt’n…” the scruffy soldier spoke, finding the older male’s anger even more amusing.

There was a brief moment of silence, as the Commander stared down to the prankster with an unchanging expression. “You are in serious threat of insubordination,” he crossed his arms in a provoked manner.

“Aw, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” McCree stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, “Just havin’ a little fun is all.” He flashed a winning smile up at the man, hoping to charm away the impending scolding.

The younger man was met with the deadpan face of his superior with his hand wordlessly held out in front of him, like a parent taking a toy away from a spoiled brat. McCree let out a small sigh of defeat, pulling the Badge from his own pocket and relinquishing it to its rightful owner.

“You’re lucky we are almost on site or I would’ve whooped your ass.” Reyes muttered as he inspected the shiny surface for damage.

“There’s still time, Boss,” the smaller man badgered with a smirk.

This earned him a tired glance layered with agitation. The Commander rubbed a hand over his exhausted facial features as he replaced the memento back into its rightful pocket, “I thought you grew up and stopped pickpocketing years ago.”

“What can I say, gotta stay sharp. Ya never know when it might come in _handy_.”

Reyes paused for a split second before wordlessly thwacking the idiot on the back of the head, successfully knocking off the brown well-worn hat off of the younger male’s head. “C’mon, shithead, briefing starts in T minus 5.”

"Hey!" McCree hurriedly tried to catch his favorite cowboy accessory before it touched the ground, pouting slightly as he meticulously replaced the hat upon his scraggly hair, "Be careful now."

The superior began walking to the exit of the large storage room as he spoke without turning, “I told you to get rid of that hat,” there was a bit of smirk playing in his tone, making it non-threating much to Reyes’ displeasure, “its terrible for espionage.”

“Then how would ya recognize me?” was McCree’s quick reply, “maybe instead, I should get a fancy badge like yours ‘xcept mine’ll say ‘sheriff.’”

Reyes groaned quietly in his chest as he vacated the area and headed toward the main deck with the cowboy trailing behind.

 

 

The Blackwatch Commander walked to the head of the table unnoticed, about four other members of his department gathered around the centralized furniture. The murmurs and laughs of conversations steadily overwhelmed the room.

“Alright, Alright. Shut the hell up, I’m talking.” Reyes announced, quieting the rowdy men that were use to the Commander’s harsh tongue.

McCree followed and took a seat to the left of the Blackwatch leader, resting his feet upon the table’s surface.

Reyes gave a sideways glace to the younger male, harshly brushing his boots off the clean tabletop. Without missing a beat, the Commander slipped the briefing papers out of his back pocket, unfolding them unceremoniously.

“There have been rumors of a rebellious group of Omnics planning to restart the Omnic Crisis,” he began, not even looking up from the page to survey his team’s reactions. “Our mission is to extract information on their whereabouts and what exactly they are planning. We need to be discreet. We don’t want mass panic,” Reyes read aloud, highlighting only the important parts of the text heavy document.

He activated the holographic map at the center of the table as he continued the briefing, “We have Intel that the group has an underground base in ‘the-middle-of-nowhere,’ Russia. There should be a supercomputer located in the lowest level, floor number 3, which has everything we need on it. Copy the hard drive onto this,” he held up a technologically advanced external hard drive, curtsey of Winston, “and our job is done.”

Reyes surveyed the other five men in the room as he switched off the hologram. He placed both palms on the tabletop, one hand pressing the papers onto the spotless surface. “This is a quick, in-and-out mission. No detours. No distractions,” on the last word he sent a glare to the cowboy who was attempting to light a cigarette. Reyes easily ripped the freshly lit cylinder from the younger man’s lips and smothered it upon the corner of the table, “Am I understood?”

He received a hearty “Yes, sir” from everyone except the pouty country boy, which he easily ignored.

“We have reached our destination, lowering altitude,” The overcom system surged to life.

“You heard the Pilot, everyone get to position!” The Blackwatch leader commanded as he headed toward the airship’s loading door in long powerful strides.

 

 

God, it was cold. He wasn’t use to snow, but he came into contact with it more times than he would’ve liked. It was hard to move in and hard to see through. Although his team was benefitting from the latter, it was still obnoxious. He was thankful that he had some well-insulated clothing designed for this type of weather underneath his normal battle attire. They all were ducked behind some snow banks, trying to gauge the security level of the only entrance.

The underground base’s door was the only thing visible in the near blizzard weather conditions and even that was covered in a pile of snow, hiding it from planes overhead. It would have been easily missed if they weren’t given coordinates.

Two Omnics stood outside on either side of the metal door. They could stand the below freezing temperatures, unlike him. The quicker they get inside, the better.

Reyes gave everyone the signal before creeping to the other side of the hideout, using the falling snow as cover. Once they had reached the top of the snow dune that was hiding the entrance, Reyes gave a tiny nod to the closest man. Without a word the two jumped from their higher ground on top of the two Omnic guards. They didn’t even know what hit them before Reyes shoved his concealed knife into the head of the one he had targeted, utilizing gravity and his body weight to pierce the thick, frozen metal.

McCree approached the fallen robotics after his Commander and cohort had finished them off, swiftly searching both bodies for the keycard. The man gave a small chuckle of satisfaction as he held the key in triumph. Quickly, the western-clad man brought the card to the designated pad, hiding himself behind the doorframe once the entrance slid open. After a beat of silence, the entire team hurried into the shelter and closed the door quietly behind them.

They were met with a polished white metal hallway, spotless from wall to wall, floor to ceiling. No personnel on the inside, but they couldn’t let their guard down yet. At the end of the hallway, there was another set of doors presumably an elevator. Once those reflective sheets of metal slid opened, Reyes peeked his head in to look for any cameras in each corner of the tiny box. He found none, motioning for his men in.

Once they all stood in the small space of the elevator Reyes finally spoke in a hushed, yet still powerful, tone, “You two,” he pointed, “make sure no one is able to get to this elevator on the first level. Use whatever means necessary.” The Commander turned his attention to the other two men; “Same goes to you on the next floor.” He looked at the last member standing next to him, “McCree, you’re staying with me.” The older man stood a bit straighter as he referred to his whole team, “Am I clear?” Earning unanimous statements of agreement before the door crawled open to the first floor.

The men filed out, one more floor down, the men filed out, one more floor down. With a final ding from the machine, Reyes and McCree slipped silently into the empty hallway in front of them. They quietly and efficiently made their way down until they reached a door that supposedly held the supercomputer within.

“Damnit,” the Commander cursed under his breath, “Of course they would lock this room better than any other…” An untrained eye wouldn’t have noticed the trip on the door, if anyone even touched the sturdy object it would have triggered the alarm throughout the whole base. They didn’t need that happening while everyone was spread out. No matter how well everyone could defend themselves on their own, it was still the least desirable scenario. Someone would need to know the code to the digital keypad on the right of the doorframe in order to successfully deactivate it.

McCree snapped the older male out of his thoughts with the cracking of his knuckles, “Allow me.”

Reyes stepped aside, allowing McCree to come forward to examine the trap and the keypad itself. Although he was use to stealth missions, lock picking was not the Commander’s forte. He is able unlock simple locks, but he wasn’t willing to risk fumbling with incorrect number sequences on such a high stakes mission. Especially when the trip would sound at the smallest mistake.

A smile spread on the former outlaw’s face. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and retrieved a lock pick, carefully inserting it into the seam where the digital panel met the wall. With a quick flick of the wrist, he popped the screen off without a hitch. They were then met with a bushel of several colored wires. McCree only took a moment to find what he was looking for in the mess, ripping out the proper yellow wire effortlessly. The numbered screen blinked before shutting off permanently causing the door to rush open.

“There we go,” the cowboy slurred out replacing the tools back into their rightful place, “Easy as pie.”

The Commander let out a small huff of approval while clasping his skilled subordinate on the shoulder. The moment was broken when the severity of their task set back in. “I’ll go in, you stand watch,” was the only thing Reyes spoke, still in a whisper.

“Aww, I don’t getta go with ya?” McCree whined in response.

The Blackwatch leader gave him a hard look, all amusement gone from his face. “No.”

McCree gave a noticeable pout with a small, displeased kick of his boot as Reyes stepped inside the darkened room.

The only visible light was the soft glow of five computer screens on the wall just opposite of the doorframe. He surveyed the space as he approaching the overwhelming technology hesitantly. Reyes took a second to stare at the large piece of machinery, not exactly sure where to start.

Snapping himself out of his stupor, he followed Winston’s instruction to find the output. Once that was completed, the Commander shoved the external hard drive inside. Supposedly it would take care of itself and download the proper data without him prompting it. The screen directly in front of him flickered before a loading bar became visible. Reyes let out a small sigh of relief; everything was going according to plan.

However his moment of contentment was instantly shattered when a dagger was thrown into the screen to his right, splaying glass all over the keyboard. The Commander immediately turned drawing his two weapons.

The figure in the doorway was much too slender, much too feminine to be his subordinate. The light from the hallways streamed in from behind her, barely lighting the woman’s face. Nevertheless, he knew everything he needed to by her familiar body language.

“Amélie…” he hissed as his gaze sharpened.

There was a tiny laugh of amusement before her accented voice floated into his ears, “My, my. I’ve heard that name twice in the past month, more than I’ve heard it in the past few years.”

The Commander’s frown deepened, ignoring the taunting female yet never taking his eyes off her. “McCree,” Reyes hollered, “I thought I told you to watch the door.”

A sickening smile blossomed on the woman’s face. “Oh don’t worry,” she purred, “he did.”

She took a step to the side to reveal the iconic boots of the younger man right outside the doorframe. Reyes felt as though a strong gust of icy wind had blown straight through him as he saw the cowboy lying motionless on the ground. However, the rage was enough to quickly melt any chills he felt. “You, Bitch!” he roared as he took a step forward, tightening the hold on his weapons.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she tsked, “the alarm still hasn’t sounded, you wouldn’t want your gunshot to let the others know you’re here.”

...Unfortunately, he knew she was right. It was too risky to have the alarm go off now, especially with the unknown state of the fallen country boy. He begrudgingly lowered his twin shotguns, putting one in its holster while keeping the other one in his grip for extra assurance.

His old co-worker took slow steps forward, her heels clicking dangerously with each footfall. Reyes’ stance became more tensed as she approached, wanting nothing more than to blow multiple holes in this whore’s face.

Now that she had come closer, he was able to get a better look of the traitorous female in the scarcely lit room. The man hadn’t seen her since she first disappeared; she looked a lot slimmer than when she was still a member of Overwatch. Also, the new pair of boots gave her a few extra inches in height. Yet, it was hard to determine whether the bluish tint to her skin was from the glow of the remaining computer screens or not. Other than physical appearance, he could tell that her demeanor had completely changed. The air around her seemed pointed, harsher than when she was a happily married woman. As if when she brought death to her husband, she had brought death to herself.

They ceaselessly stared at each other from across room, sizing each other up.

Reyes broke his gaze to steal a glance at the still working computer screen to his left: 32%. Looks like the knife didn’t do any damage to the supercomputer itself, only to one of its many displays. He couldn’t deny the brief sense of ease that filled his core before the tension of danger replaced it.

“I didn’t know Talon had teamed up with the Omnic Rebellion,” the Blackwatch Commander spat as he reconnected eyes.

Another chuckle escaped her, “I would never associate with these vermin.” Her tone was light, as if she were merely talking about the weather.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I came for the same reason you did,” she replied smoothly, “I need information.”

The Commander’s eyebrows twitched upward before instantly settling back to a scowl. She didn’t seem to mind talking about classified subjects. And yet, the soldier was still on edge. People didn’t share secrets with their enemy unless they were sure the other would keep quiet. Dead was about as quiet as a person could get… Maybe if he kept her talking, it would buy enough time for the computer to load. He didn’t have much choice at this point.

There was a brief moment of silence before Reyes prompted again, “Obviously you were here before us, why didn’t you get what you wanted and destroy the evidence?”

The Talon agent allowed a small smirk to present as she twirled a bit of her ponytail around her slender finger, “A gentleman should always open the door for a lady.”

Disgust began to bubble in his gut, and he made no attempt to hide it from his face.

“However, Commander…” the words dripped off the toxic woman’s tongue, causing Reyes to stiffen as his title escaped her lips, “I like the way you think… Sabotaging both the Omnics and an enemy group after you have gotten your greedy hands on what you wanted,” she elaborated as her smile spread wider, “why, that sounds absolutely delightful.”

Without a moments notice, the Talon agent darted forward throwing a punch at the Commander’s face. However, he was quick to dodge, swiftly ducking as he knocked away her arm with his own. He took a quick jab with the handle of the gun to her now exposed stomach, knocking her back a few steps.

Amélie stumbled but easily straightened herself, only placing a hand on her torso after the assault. Another feminine laugh broke the eerie silence, “Excellent…” she looked back to the Commander’s face, lips still annoyingly upturned. “Hand to hand combat has never been my strong suit… I could use someone like you on my team.”

Reyes glared at the Talon member with disbelief, shifting from his defensive stance back into a normal standing position. “What kinda bullshit just came out of your mouth?” he growled, “You just attacked me, and now you’re handing out fucking invitations? I am a Commander for Overwatch.”

“Yes, but not ‘Strike-Commander.’”

The Blackwatch leader froze as she stated this fact.

Her smirk only continued to grow at his silence, “Poor, little Gabriel Reyes didn’t get promoted to ‘Strike-Commander’ after so many years of proving your worth. Instead, they dump a whole new team on you to build from the ground up.”

Reyes needed this conversation to end, immediately. His breathing began to increase as he tried to hold back the urges to rip this woman’s head off. His eyes shifted to the computer screen once again: 78%.

The sniper walked toward him, eyes never leaving his pensive face as she continued, “That wasn’t very fair… You worked your whole life to watch your best friend take the position away from you.”

She was much too close to him, if she took one step closer their torsos would be touching. Reyes clenched his unarmed fist, focusing on the pain of his nails digging into his calloused palm. “That’s none of your fucking business,” he snarled with contempt.

“Maybe…” her tone was thoughtful before she placed a hand on his broad chest, drawing absentminded circles upon the cloth peeking under his bulletproof vest. The woman only continued to leer as she lowered her voice to a whisper, “but you’ve done more than enough to show your worth to me. How valuable you are to any group you are in. You are being wasted on Overwatch.”

81%.

“How much of an dumbass do you take me for?” he asked before grabbing her wrist roughly, “I know what you’re playing here.” The Commander harshly threw her caressing hand off of him.

The Talon agent was only slightly derailed before her ever-present sneer reappeared. “Not even I can trick you, hm? Now I’m even more intrigued… Too many morons are put on the same missions as me, not a single one I can trust.” She began to circle the man slowly, her heels accentuating each step.

85%.

“But I can tell that you are loyal. Loyal not to Overwatch, but to the people there… The way you reacted when you saw ‘Monsieur Dress-up’ on the floor proves it.”

The Blackwatch Commander’s gaze darkened as every muscle seemed to tense.

87%.

“Not only him, but I noticed you panicked when you saw a tiny bird get taken down by a hunter…” the woman stated with a knowing gaze.

90%.

Reyes grew even more rigid. Shoulders became square as a fire began to lick the insides of his stomach. His eyes were dark as he stared at the floor, his aura overcome with rage.

91%.

“Your tiny medic didn’t stand much of a chance… And she still doesn’t.” The Talon woman was now behind the man, an arm sliding up around his shoulder as she whispered into his ear.

96%.

“Wouldn’t it be a shame for someone to assault her right now...? She took a pretty nasty fall. No one could recover so quickly. There wouldn't be much of a fight...” the female’s unnaturally cool breath tickled the shell of his ear.

99%.

“Room number 387, correct?”

Something inside of the larger man finally snapped. With an inhuman yell he quickly whipped around and swished her legs out from under her with his own. Using his weight to his advantage, he harshly forced her to the floor. His empty hand now full with the Talon sniper’s throat. His shotgun was shoved in her face as he continues to press tighter upon her easily snap-able neck. “Shut the fuck up,” Reyes seethed, successfully pinning her to the floor.

The sickening female stared up at him calmly, as if she were still standing next to the man. “You are quick to loose your temper…” even her voice had no semblance of any kind of nerves, “That is a good thing, anger means you have determination. Thanks to your anger, you destroyed my team so very easily.” She didn’t look the least bit torn or hurt by this statement, in fact she almost looked pleased. The woman stared him dead in the eye with the sparkle of an unidentifiable emotion as she proclaimed, “We both have it, you and I… The desire to kill.”

…She was right.

He did want to kill. He wanted to murder the bitch who to attempted to kill Angela, hell he didn’t even know if McCree was still alive. And yet, the sniper looked so happy through all of this, she loved toying with him. Why not get rid of her before she had the chance to crawl her way further underneath his skin. “Then why don’t I start with you?” his voice buzzed deep in his throat. He pressed barrel onto the bridge of her nose, the bullet would go right between her eyes… Perfect.

“Je suis désolé, mon ami,” the dangerous woman hummed in her native tongue, “Time is up.”

The man above stilled as a dose of adrenaline snaked its way through his veins, “…Wha-“

Reyes was cut off as a plume of purple smoke suddenly exploded inside the enclosed space. He felt the slender female overthrow him while he endured a coughing fit. He only was able to sit up as his lungs continued to spasm.

“…Amélie!” he screamed with animosity once he had finally taken control of his own voice.

The traitor in question stood in the doorway once again, slowly turning back to face the encumbered male. Her figure was hardly visible through the copious amount of gas.

A lingering moment of eerie silence.

“…It’s Widowmaker,” she corrected before the sound of rapid gunfire rang causing the man to throw himself flat against the floor. The only indication of the woman’s next action was the sharp clicking of hurried heels disappearing down the hallway.

The roar from the security alarm sounded as the smoke finally began to dissipate.

Reyes suddenly sprang into action, bolting to the destroyed supercomputer. All of the displays and even the powerhouse behind the technology were littered with bullets thanks to the escaped terrorist. Although, the sniper couldn’t seem to aim with the cloud coverage since the external hard drive was still intact. He haphazardly yanked it from the wrecked computer before running out of the nearly pitch black room.

Once he was out into the hallway, he saw the visual cue of the alarm painting the white hallway with flashes of red. McCree was still on the ground right outside of the doorframe. Without a second spared, Reyes grabbed the younger man by the shirt in order to slip an arm underneath him. Once he had a solid hold on his immobilized operative, he maneuvered the western clad man onto his own back. The Commander tried to ignore the crimson puddle still left on the floor as he picked up the boy’s favorite hat.

The sound of metal scraping against metal from down the hallway propelled the Commander forward, running to the elevator as fast as humanly possible. He activated his communicator when the doors of the lift were in sight, “Everyone evac, NOW!” was all he ordered as the sliding sheets closed behind him.

 

 

The Talon sniper stood out in the bitter cold without the sensation of the ice against her skin penetrating her thoughts. Not like it even could anymore. The loud gush of wind from the Overwatch aircraft was only heard through the raging blizzard when it was directly overhead. She watched as the gray ship faded into the white sky.

Another Talon agent climbed onto the large snow dune where she currently stood. She didn’t even know his name, nor did she care to find out.

“Did you get the intel?” his gruff voice cut through the whipping winds.

“No…” Widowmaker smoothly replied as she glanced down to her occupied hands, “There has been a change of plan...”

She chuckled softly as the black leather casing within her grasp snapped closed. One that protected a Blackwatch insignia.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I AM SO SORRY ABOUT HOW LATE THIS CHAPTER IS!! It has been a whole month since my last update, which is really terrible... But I tried to give you guys a longer, more action-packed chapter, so I hope that will quell your anger. By the way, I actually put some announcements about this fic on my tumblr ( https://www.tumblr.com/blog/candiedconstellations ). Incase it takes me a while to update again I can keep you all updated on there. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this solo Reyes chapter in a supposedly Mercy-centric fic. Thank you all for reading!
> 
> Translation (according to Goolge Translate):  
> "Je suis désolé, mon ami" - "I'm sorry, my friend"
> 
> (Shout-out to my amazing beta-readers, as always!! I appreciate them so much and couldn't write this fic without them <3)


	10. Chapter 10

_“Thank you for coming, Ms. Ziegler.” The blonde male dressed in a stark blue trench coat greeted once the car door swung open._

_The young physician easily stepped out of the mode of transportation they sent for her, ignoring the hand that was offered. “It’s **Dr.** Ziegler,” she corrected curtly. She would not tolerate being undermined. Her extensive schooling and research would not go unknown; it the whole reason she was invited into the International Organization._

_The man seemed a little taken aback by the woman’s sharp tone, but immediately excused himself, “Right. I’m sorry, Doctor." He continued to hold his hand out to the new recruit respectfully, “I’m Jack Morrison, a Commander here at Overwatch. We are glad to have you with us.” Morrison smile broadly as he introduced himself, charm oozing from him._

_Ziegler was unaffected._

_Nevertheless, she placed her hand in his and gave a firm shake. The younger woman returned his smile with a polite one of her own, forgiving him of his mistake. “Thank you,” was her response before growing quiet again._

_The Doctor speculated that the higher-ups sent the kind Commander in order to persuade her that she made the right decision._

_Initially, She wanted nothing to do with Overwatch. Even though it claimed to help the world, it still tore through cities like a whirlwind. Destroying anything or anyone in its path all for the sake of ‘Justice.’ True Justice wouldn’t leave people dying on rubble filled streets._

_But that’s why she was here._

_She would be the one to make sure no one was left behind._

_Her research could only go so far without the funds and equipment she needed. When they offered her such a prestigious position at the world’s largest Task Force with access to everything she required to kick-start her technology and more, she couldn’t find herself declining. Her refusal would be solely based on selfish whim. The Doctor had to look past her own ideals and focus on what was really important. She could save so many people. So many more than she ever could by being stationed at one location._

_“Let me give you a tour of the facility. It’s easy to get lost if you don’t know your way,” the Commander brought her out of her thoughts with his light tone._

_The new Doctor nodded in agreement, gathering her materials from the car and following him onto the main grounds._

 

Mercy gulped in a mouthful of air, trying to fill her burning lungs with the relief of oxygen. Her death grip on the two hip-height bars on either side of her was the only thing keeping her upright. She lifted her head to look at the end of the path the bars created. Her legs had regained most of its muscle, but her balance was still suffering. Steeling her resolve, she released the bars and focused on staying standing. That was the easy part. The real challenge for the physically damaged physician was moving forward.

Once she had properly planted herself, she slowly allowed her left foot to absorb more of her weight while her right disconnected from the floor. One step, two steps, three steps. Her weight started to veer a little too far to the right. She attempted once again to correct the error, but she still toppled over, grabbing the wooden bar before her bruised ribcage made contact with it.

With a frustrated sigh, she reluctantly used the two long bars to complete the rest of the exercise. No matter how many times she tried to not rely on the wooden cylinders, she couldn’t seem to walk without loosing composure. It had already been a week since she started. She should have seen _some_ progress by now, especially with her daily doses of nanotechnology.

Looking over to the nurse surveying her, she gestured wearily that she was finished. Said nurse scurried over with the wheelchair she was forced to use and positioned it for easy access. Couldn’t use crutches if you couldn’t balance to begin with.

After a short, silent stroll down the hallway, they made it to her new hospital room. Now that she was no longer in critical condition, she was moved from the ICU to a more typical hospital room. The still Doctor refused to be placed in the VIP rooms on the upmost floor; she didn’t need any special treatment.

The woman in recovery dismissed the nurse with an appreciative, yet still aggravated smile as soon as a she opened the door for her. Mercy no longer needed help to get out of her chair and into bed. At least she had recovered that much. Now in the solitude of her own room, she wheeled herself to the side of the bed and stood out from the chair. Took one step then hurriedly sat on the firm mattress before she once again fell.

The orange light of afternoon turning to dusk tinted the white floor and sheets the same hue. She didn’t feel the need to draw the curtains closed. There was always something calming about the sunset. For her, it signified a break. The evening was the only time she allowed herself the solace a quiet cup of coffee. The Doctor would sit in her office, purposely rolling her chair nearer the window, while she indulged in the warm liquid. It was a small pause in her day from running back and forth to hectic surgeries and into the long hours of furthering her research at night. The only time to calm her nerves and just enjoy a moment of solitude.

Longing for a sip of that addictive drink, the Doctor shook herself out of her stupor and into the present. Without further distraction, she grabbed a small box she hid away in the cabinet to her right and inserted a key into the small lock on the metal container.

Thankfully, her fine motor skills had already begun to return since she started hand-eye coordination therapy while she was still bedridden. With a small twist, the box was unlocked and she lifted out a vial of the liquidated form of her precious research. She couldn’t allow anyone access to it while she was still in recovery. Many have tried to get their hands on her nanotechnology in the past, she needed to protect it even in her weakened state.

Mercy placed the box aside as she grabbed a nearby needle, inserting said medical tool into the vial and began to fill it with the yellow serum. She raised her left arm, exposing the delicate flesh of her cubital fossa then sanitized the area with a small cotton ball. Ziegler lined up the needle to her vein before injecting her nanotechnology into her own bloodstream. There was a small pinch from the needle, but no other pain came along with it. In fact, she had designed her technology to release endorphins once it hit the bloodstream, calming the patient while it began repairs.

Angela let out a soft sigh as she finished, retracting the needle from her arm and disposing of the used tool. Replacing the used vial into the box, she relocked it and hid it away once again. Swinging her legs onto the mattress, she laid back as she closed her eyes. Finally letting her aching body relax after her long day of physical therapy.

 

 

_“And here is the training facility. We might call you down every once and a while in case someone gets hurt during sparring matches,” Commander Morrison explained as he opened one of the large double doors for her. She gave a quick ‘thank you’ as she walked inside, taking in the enormous room full of equipment and people sporadically practicing throughout the space._

_As she observed the room and its occupants, she heard a gruff voice behind her, “Jack. Get out of the way, dipshit.”_

_Ziegler turned her head to see a darker skinned man standing right behind Morrison with a unamused scowl._

_Well-built. Same height as Morrison, approximately 6 foot. Partial to the color black. A scar just above his eyebrow. Brown eyes. Maybe more of a deep amber than brown. No, definitely the shade of warm coffee._

_“Gabe, I thought you were out on a mission this whole week.” Jack spoke as he walked further into the room, allowing his comrade to pass through._

_“Finished up early,” was all the stranger grunted as he walked past, not even noticing her presence._

_Something caught the young physician’s eye as she watched him walk into the training room. This new man stride was hindered with a slight limp, leaning his weight more to his left as he took each step._

_“Your ankle is sprained,” The Doctor stated, eyes trained on his posture._

_The tanned male immediately stopped in his tracks, turning back around slowly to finally face her. His expression was one of angered confusion, maybe even a little offended for disclosing personal information._

_She had to admit, he did a good job of concealing his injury. It looked as if he had a rock in his shoe instead of each step causing him pain._

_“What did you say?” he squared his shoulders, standing a bit straighter. He was trying to intimidate her._

_She met his heated gaze with her own icy one. Her posture rightened as well, accepting his challenge. “You sprained your right ankle.”_

_The silence of the room increased ten fold as sparks of tension began to fly between the two._

_After a long moment of sizing the other up, Jack gave out a lengthy sigh, causing both Ziegler and the stranger to look over to blonde Commander. Morrison scratched the back of his head, before looking up to Reyes tiredly. “Gabe, if you’re injured there is no shame in going to the medical building” he repeated himself, having had this conversation with his co-worker on several occasions._

_The dark skinned man gave a slight scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “What good are they gonna do? Kiss my wound then send me on my way? I’ll pass.” He immediately turned and began walking to the equipment located on the other side of the room with barely even a stagger. Yet the stagger was still there._

_“If you continue to put pressure on your sprain, you will only injure yourself further. A sprain is a lot easier to mend than a torn ligament,” Ziegler called out once more, tone even and cool._

_“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Nurse,” the black clad man dismissed with a wave of his hand, not even having the decency to turn around to face her as he insulted her status._

_Her jaw visibly slacked as she took in the male’s words, his unintentional jab snaking its way from her ears to her stomach. She felt the beginnings of infuriation swell inside her. Ziegler often thought of herself as patient, but this man caused her to believe this virtue escaped her._

_The woman snapped her mouth shut once more before strutting over to the limping man, easily catching up to him in his lethargic pace. Without a second thought, she gripped the man’s bicep tugging him back to look at her._

_The taller male looked mildly surprised at her forcefulness, yet her strength pitted against his was almost laughable. She could tell alone by the rock of a muscle she was holding now. However, she did not falter._

_“I would advise you, **Sir** , to regard me as Doctor. And if you insist on continuing your stubbornness, then I will suspend you from action until your ankle heals naturally. If not, I will heal you right now without any further hassle. Your choice.”_

_The male’s eyebrows rose slightly, clearly not expecting a threat coming from the small female. Instead of anger like she expected, the line of his lips barely tilted upwards._

_“…Huh,” he breathed, intrigue briefly tinting in his tone, “Guess I have no choice…”_

 

  

She heard a tiny noise to her right, breaking her from memories long past. Mercy immediately turned her head to see a male figure standing in front of the previously unopened window.

Her chest fluttered with hope for a moment, but the uncontrollable feeling was snuffed out as soon as she saw the red glow of cybernetics. Even with the small sting of disappointment constricting her core, her face still lifted with a warm smile nevertheless.

“Genji,” the Doctor acknowledged, “It has been a while.”

His metallic voice filled the small hospital room, “Dr. Ziegler, it is good to see you.” As usual his greeting was concise and rigid, much like his bow.

He came a bit closer with silent footfalls, standing nearer her bed but still stayed a fairly cautious distance away.

Sitting a bit straighter, the woman spoke once more, “What brings you here? Is there a complication with your cybernetics?” she allowed concern to lace in her tone.

Genji was silent for a moment, as if taking in the sight of the wounded Doctor. “…No, I…I heard that you were injured during your last mission.”

Mercy’s lips curled into a small, saddened smile, one of reluctant agreement. “That’s very kind of you to come see me,” she hummed, her gaze softening as she folded her hands delicately in her lap. She still wanted to act professional around him, but her heart went out to her former patient. This man seemed like a lost boy, even though they were only a few years apart in age.

The cyborg took a moment to observe the room, making sure that his presence was still unknown. After finding no trace of anything suspicious the Blackwatch operative looked back over to the recovering Doctor.

The blonde took that as her cue to begin conversation. “You haven’t been straining yourself in our time apart, have you?” She asked with a slightly teasing tone, hoping to lift his darkened mood.

“No, I am always careful,” he replied, before growing quiet again.

Ziegler nodded in response, “Indeed, you are,” she praised gently.

She knew the man well enough to know that something was on his mind. Mercy continued to look at him, halfway between her hospital bed and the window. “Is there something else you would like to discuss?” she smoothly prompted, waiting a beat as her sentence died to silence.

The man’s enhanced, red irises glanced to her blue ones before darting away to the floor. He seemed to be thinking on how to phrase his words. She sat patiently. The quietness of uncertainty continued to permeate the air for a few minutes.

Ziegler finally spoke up, realizing he still wasn’t comfortable voicing his thoughts. “Since you are here, how about I give you a check-up? I may not be able to complete any repairs at the moment, but I will take note if anything is askew,” she offered warmly.

Genji slowly nodded, clearly hesitating before stepping closer to the wounded woman’s cot.

The Doctor then swung her legs over the edge of the bed, beckoning for him to sit beside her. She began with his torso, checking the connection between his cybernetics and his skin, then continued to move downward. The quietness of the evening air was calm but still had an edge to it, similar to the simmer of static before a storm. She decided to engage in small talk while she worked, hoping to keep the mood light. “How have your missions been? Nothing too dangerous, I hope.”

He seemed reluctant to answer but eventually the robotic ping of his voice entered the room, “I am apart of Blackwatch. There is nothing that we do that isn’t dangerous.”

The Doctor couldn’t describe the squeeze of her chest as she heard these words. She had done so well to keep her mind off of the elusive organization for the past six hours, but the one word sent spirals of questions to her head.

Nevertheless, she nodded stiffly in agreement. “Yes… That sounds about right…” Dr. Ziegler continued by busying herself with her work once more. She moved slightly to lift his robotic arm, testing its range of motion with shaky hands.

Regardless of her attempted distraction, the chaos of words continuously burned in her subconscious, itching to be asked. Why wasn’t she allowed to inquire about their objectives? Why was she not allowed to know their locations even with her rank? Why wasn’t a medic allowed to accompany them? Why wasn’t _she_ allowed to accompany them? Why would Morrison always divert their conversation anytime she asked? Why would they always come back with serious injuries? Why would they always come back with _casualties_? Why would they deny her access to all of the members’ information? Why were they considered ghosts in the system?

_Why couldn’t they tell her where Reyes is?_

Her ministrations immediately halted, the last question ringing in her head and filling up any space with a stinging echo.

 

 

_They sat in silence._

_The darker skinned male sat on the nearest piece of exercise equipment, which happened to be a bench press. The Doctor was resting on the floor in front of the man, legs tucked together under her while keeping the highest amount of dignity and professionalism. She had already begun her inspection and was surprised how swollen the ankle had gotten considering how little pain the male displayed. Most likely because of frequent use and his denial of medical assistance. The young woman’s brows creased in concentration as she prodded the foot in various places, seeing if any would gain a reaction from him._

_“Where did Commander Morrison go?” Ziegler began, trying to make her usual light conversation with the unknown man._

_“Probably off kissing every ass in sight.” His baritone voice grunted as he tightened the arms across his chest. A physical display of his guarded attitude and refusal of help._

_The Doctor glanced up at his face before returning to the wounded appendage. “I may not be military, but isn’t it insubordination to disrespect your Commander?” She murmured as she rested his foot in her lap._

_The man above her let out a swift cackle, “Jack? **My** Commander?” one of his hands reached up to stroke his styled facial hair, possibly to hide the smirk that painted his face. “Now that’s rich.” _

_She felt heat rise to her face as he laughed over his own inside joke. This was the first time she had seen genuine amusement on the man’s features. She had to admit, the sly grin looked rather good on him. However, she quickly dispelled those thoughts and returned to what she was proficient at. Healing injuries. She should be staring at his ankle, not his face. The flustered woman huffed under her breath as she tried to keep the embarrassed pink tint of her cheeks hidden with hair._

_A rather peaceful silence washed over to the pair, only the sound of distant chatter and the working of machines filled the room._

_“…How old are you, **Doc**?” he questioned, using the slang as an insult._

_She didn’t take it as such and continued adding pressure to the joint skillfully. “I am 23.”_

_"That’s too young,” his face dropped into a frown as he began to pull his foot away from her slender fingers._

_She immediately tightened her grip on his leg, while avoiding squeezing his wounded ankle. The younger female glared back up to him, her icy gaze sharpening. She would not be underestimated. “I have two medical degrees and am regarded as the best Surgeon in Europe. Age has nothing to do with competence.” Her words reflected her eyes, cold and clear. “How old were you when you joined the military?” she rebutted._

_"…18,” his dark eyes held the beginnings of piqued interest as the Doctor brought up a fair point. He slowly returned his swollen foot to her, but this did not insinuate she had gained his full trust. Yet._

 

 

“…Dr. Ziegler.”

The preoccupied physician blinked back to the present, looking to what she could see of the cyborg’s face.

He continued tentatively before she could respond verbally, “…Why…?” an emotion he had been trying to hide for so long could no longer escape his eyes. “…Why did you save me?”

The woman felt a pull at her heart by his words, but she would never allow it to wash over her face. She couldn’t even bare to think how long that question had been running through his mind. Throughout their years together, anger and revenge were the only two emotions that kept the ‘dead man’ going. However, there seemed to be a shift since last she saw him. Like a wounded animal that had stopped viciously defending itself and was finally showing its true pain.

Mercy slowly returned his right arm to a relaxed position, moving to sit directly next to him instead of slightly behind him.

“Why…? Because death is a terrifying thing,” her words were soft, her eyes staring out to the shadowing sky. The black silhouette of trees against the fading orange light reinforced her words. “It is something that not even science can comprehend. It is something that I swore my life against, to keep death away from anyone I could.” She tore her cobalt eyes from the descending sun and instead brought them to his once more. “So when I saw you… dismantled… back in Hanamura, with my team members surrounding you like your funeral had already come; I couldn’t stand by when I could still help you. I knew I could still save you because of your eyes. There was a fire behind them, one that told me ‘I want to live.’”

Genji’s, now crimson, orbs widened as she spoke; yet he still averted his gaze to the floor with hands tightening into fists against his thighs. “Forgive me, Doctor. But I believe your efforts were in vain. I do not help people like you do. I end lives instead.”

Mercy felt a pang of hurt when she saw this man so broken. Although he was given a new body, stronger than any other on base, his soul was still torn to shreds like his former self.

Without a second thought, the Doctor grunted softly as she pushed herself off the mattress, forcing herself to stand. Genji’s arms immediately flew up as if to catch her if she were to fall, however she held herself tall and powerful as she stood directly in front of him. “I did not make a mistake by healing you, Genji. You can still do so much for this world.” Her voice was soft but held meaning that pressed upon them like a boulder.

She took his hands into her own: one covered with scarred skin, the other covered with the sleek feel of cybernetics. “It is true that you cannot help people the same way I do, but that does not mean your skills are useless. You can protect those who cannot protect themselves and keep the fire of life burning with your sword.” Her sincere smile reached her eyes as she slowly kneeled in front of him. “Who knows, you could possibly be the one who ends the turmoil between human and omnic.” As she spoke the last two nouns, she pressed his two hands together as if in prayer. The two appendages so different, but completely the same. “Although that is up to you to decide… Isn’t it fascinating how endless your possibilities are?”

The former ninja let his head bow, his palms still together even when her fingers left his. The recovering woman moved her hands to his knees in order to keep the little balance she had. They stayed unmoving until the sun had dipped below the horizon and the only light in the room was the white haze of the bedside light. Genji finally raised his head, eyes not only red in his pupils. “…Thank you, Doctor,” his voice sounded ragged even with the trill of metal amongst it.

His words held gratitude were years overdue, but Mercy accepted them all the same. “It was my pleasure.”

The cyberneticly enhanced man then stood, cautiously helping Ziegler to her wobbly feet as well. The sparkle of new ideas were already blossoming behind his eyes before his voice once again peeked through the air, “I will need to speak with Commander Reyes once he returns.”

Adrenaline shot through the woman at the sound of his name, coating her insides with ice. “…So Commander Reyes isn’t in Headquarters?” seriousness doused her tone.

She had not seen him in almost two weeks. He suddenly just stopped visiting at night, and yet she would still stay awake for hours on end until her exhaustion would overtake her. She spent hours calculating his behavior, processing the thought that she only ever saw him after the sun had set. Considering he was a leader of one of the sub-organizations, he often was busy throughout the day and only had a piece of downtime at night, much like her. For some reason, he would spend that sliver of time with her.

Even with his absence for the past week and a half, a small part of her clung to the hope that ‘he would arrive tonight’ and every night she would be disappointed. She would often laugh at herself, finding her internal monologue childish. Yet she would still stare out the spellbindingly black window night after night, attempting to quell the worry in her stomach.

She just needed to know he was safe.

“…Can you tell me where he is?” her brows knitted together as the terse question fell from her lips.

The woman’s urgency threw the younger man off guard. However, the shake in her legs did not escape his view as her stamina began to run low. He shifted to mutely coax her to sit on the crisp sheet of her hospital bed. “I’m sorry, Dr. Ziegler, but that is classified.”

Her hands tightened into fists as anger and frustration began to build. She would love to scream at him, but she needed to keep in mind that she was this man’s primary physician. It would be unprofessional for her to explode in front of him especially after the tenderness he'd shown. After all, he had nothing to do with this. He was just following orders.

Now Morrison, on the other hand, would receive a stern talking to.

Ziegler took a long, deep breath, her negative emotions releasing along with the carbon dioxide escaping her lungs. “Alright, I understand,” the last word was clipped as she finally took a seat, “There is a little resistance in your left hamstring. I will modify it in a few days.” The Doctor picked up a pen to set a reminder for herself. She returned to work as she always did once her emotions started to overwhelm her, focusing on what needed be done instead of the hurricane inside her. “You are dismissed.”

The Blackwatch member nodded and said nothing as he moved back over to the window. Although, the sound of the wounded woman’s voice stopped him.

“…Thank you for coming to see me, Genji.” Her voice once again held a soothing quality to it.

He turned back to see the blonde’s lips rise in a heartfelt smile, which he unconsciously returned behind his helm. Genji gave a deep bow to the woman before slipping out into the night, leaving her alone once again.

Angela let out a long breath as she let her shoulders and head slump forward. After a moment of silence, her gaze shifted to the holographic clock on her bedside table.

10:08pm.

Ziegler laid back into the mattress of the bed, the back of her hand resting against her forehead. Her wandering eyes found their way to the window where Genji disappeared. They searched for another figure to appear in the glass’ reflection, the glass that held the perfect angle of the hospital room’s door.

It was going to be a long night.

 

 

_“What were you doing when you injured yourself?” she asked curtly, reaching for the briefcase she brought with her into the building._

_“That’s classified,” he retorted, watching her as she worked._

_Ziegler let out a loud sigh, not even glimpsing up at him, “Is ‘classified’ the only response I will get from my patients here?”_

_"That’s all you’ll get from me,” he confirmed._

_“I can tell this job will be very trying then,” she nodded as she retrieved a vial containing a yellow liquid from within the case._

_“…What the hell is that?” the man asked, his eyes narrowed with suspicion as he sat a little straighter._

_“My life’s work,” was her only response as she obtained a needle, sterilizing it with rubbing alcohol._

_“Fuck no, I need a better answer than that,” he demanded as he roughly pulled his foot away once the needle was in sight._

_“It a small dose of nanotechnology,” she exhaled tiredly._

_“Nano- **what**?” he immediately stood, ignoring the pain of putting pressure on the unwrapped foot. “No, we’re done here.”_

_She knew she would have to be forceful with this man, but this was getting ridiculous. She quickly stood, not even nearing his height, chest-to-chest to effectively block his path. With a completely straight face, the Doctor abruptly stabbed the needle into the exposed skin of his triceps._

_“What the **fuck**?!” he howled as he knocked her arm away, distancing himself from her immediately while holding his now injured arm._

_The Doctor wordlessly replaced the needle into her briefcase before closing and locking the container once more. The younger woman didn’t even make eye contact with the man before walking past him, heading out the door._

_The blonde had made it into the hallway before his booming voice filled the small space, “No, you do **not** get to walk away after pulling that bullshit!”_

_"I have elsewhere to be and you have already wasted enough of my time.” She quipped, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke._

_He strode over to her, blocking her path in a similar way she had done to him. “You are in serious trouble, little girl," he seethed, his face inches from hers._

_Her gaze hardened, challenging him to repeat himself. “Yes? Well considering I am the new **Head** of Medical Research, I think I will be alright.”_

_The man in front of her seemed taken aback as she name-dropped her own title, but fight still filled his eyes. “A Commander still has rank over medical personnel.”_

_“I am sure Commander Morrison will be on my side in this situation,” she retaliated._

_“I’m sure he will be, but his opinion doesn’t matter when we share the same rank.”_

_It was her turn to gape at the man before her, she opened her mouth to speak but quickly shut it. The new recruit lowered her head slightly as she spoke through her gritted teeth, “…I … apologize for my behavior, Commander-“_

_“Reyes.”_

_“…Commander Reyes.”_

_She always hated loosing. But when you decide to fight your boss, it is the logical action to back down. However, a blizzard still continued to rage in her blue eyes combatting the flames in his._

_“Name,” he demanded._

_“Dr. Angela Ziegler.”_

_“You will be receiving a notice of leave in the next coming days,” he stated as he made a B-line back to the training facility, “Try not to get too comfortable, **Doc**.”_

_Anger coiled in her stomach and she tightened the grip on the handle of her brief case. “Commander Reyes,” she called as she turned back to face him before he could enter the room._

_The man unexpectedly stopped at her words, turning his head but not his body._

_“…How is your ankle feeling?” was all she inquired._

_Reyes’ eyes widen slightly, making it apparent that he had forgotten about his own injury. He glanced down at his right foot and stared for a long moment before throwing the double doors open with a growl._

_The woman couldn’t help but smile to herself. A sense of pride wormed its way into her chest at the knowledge that her technology had done its job. Overwatch’s Head of Medical Research began to walk back to her ‘new’ and ‘former’ office, her heeled shoes clicking distinctly against the tiled floor._

_She never did receive that notice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter completed! I'm sorry for the wait, but the Uprising event changed so much about my story. I always try to include as much canon as possible, so thank you for waiting for me to work around that obstacle. It's funny, because I was going to include Genji before the event even took place! And I have a confession to make: I ship Gency as well... but in this fic, I tried not to make their relationship romantic. This is a Mercykill fic afterall! Also, incase you were curious, in my mind Mercy is 7 years younger than Reyes. So when she is 23, he is 30 and when she is 37, he is 44 (Post-recall Reaper and Mercy dynamic). That's just a personal headcanon of mine though, so think whatever you want! Anyway, thank you again for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> (Shout-out to my beta-readers for helping me through this difficult transition and for their ever-present love!)


	11. Chapter 11

_No, that’s not right._

Ziegler huffed as she took a step back from her workbench, glaring at the dismantled Caduceus Staff. Hands settled on hips while lips became trapped between teeth. The Doctor allowed possible solutions to wash over her.

The empty yet fully stocked laboratory was scarcely lit; only the fluorescent lamp atop the long table provided any light. The enormous room encompassed anything she needed: an office, examination room, medical library, etc. Everything she needed and more. Just like everything else at Overwatch.

However, what she truly needed was her staff to actually work. Piecing it back together was the easy part. Upgrading the utensil to limits that no one even dared to think of? Now that was hard.

Like usual, the time to work on personal project was always in the lethargic hours of the night. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t rest until the problem was solved. Her research notes were spread upon the countertop until none of the cool off-white metal was visible; tools for reconstructing her staff dotted the pages in shadows.

When an ample amount of time passed, she glanced over to the newly repaired Valkyrie Suit still placed upon its mannequin. The Doctor walked closer, examining the patch up job by running her ungloved fingers over the polished metal of her breastplate. Her newly constructed wings attached perfectly to the backing of the suit, even though she had to recreate them from scratch after the fall obliterated her work. With a soft sigh she returned once again to the remnants of her staff.

She needed to figure this out. Lives were at stake the longer she took.

The Doctor finally closed her eyes as her fingertips pressed against pounding temples.

_Focus._

“Damn, are you hard to find,” the familiar baritone voice filled the space, mild-agitation evident as it reverberated against the barren walls.

Her eyes snapped open as she whipped around to face the owner. She felt the air suddenly suck out of her lungs like a vacuum, leaving her breathless once the ‘absent’ Commander was in her sights.

“Gabriel…” she murmured airily, not even realizing the name escaped her.

From his slumped stance alone she could tell something was off. His tanned skin looked almost ashen instead of the soft sheen of bronze it normally projected. His facial features sagged with exhaustion, casting aging shadows upon his jagged scars. His burning eyes, which normally held such emotion, looked as if a dead man were inside instead of the passionate man she knew.

The ache only continued to grow as she stood frozen in place. Cobalt eyes tinted red with tired dryness were now wide and full of the life he seemed to have lost.

Nevertheless, he was here.

He was safe.

His name sounded so much sweeter when spoken from her lips. Not many people called him 'Gabriel'. If they did they usually got a punch to the face, but he suddenly seemed to like it so much more now. Only on rare occurrences would she utter that seven-letter word, but he could get accustomed to always hearing the lilt of her voice as she spoke it.

He stepped a bit closer, allowing the dim lamp to cast its light over him.

“Hi, Doc,” his quiet, tender greeting expressed all of the pent up emotions that accumulated over the past three weeks.

They stood for what felt like hours just gazing at each other. The sight of the other was enough to wash away the clingy feeling of worry. Their synchronized breaths brought comfort to the pair as their eyes became anchored in the other’s, melted ice meeting dying embers.

Abruptly, both man and woman rushed forward, fuelled by the desire to determine whether the other was real or not. Their bodies locked perfectly together in an embrace. Firm yet not crushing. Soft yet not weak. Arms gripping fabric as they searched for the reassurance of warm flesh. A simultaneous sigh left both parties. One of relief. One of overwhelming emotion. But most importantly, one of satisfaction.

Again they remained frozen in time, allowing the world to disappear other than the person in their arms. No Doctor, no Commander. No Overwatch, no Blackwatch. Only Angela and Gabriel.

Once their moment of conjoined solidarity had finally passed, they pulled apart, but only far enough to look at the opposing face. Their arms still floated in the small amount of air between them, reluctant to separate.

“…Are you hurt?” the shorter woman eventually questioned. From her initial observation, he seemed a little worse for wear, but there were no injuries from what she could tell. Especially after having physical contact.

“I’ve been better…” he grumbled as he continued their eye contact, “Looks like you’re doing fine.”

Angela gave him a gentle smile, the corners of her lips only lifting slightly but still fondly. “Yes, I have completely recovered. No lasting effects, no scars.”

Gabriel nodded in affirmation, examining every detail of the younger woman’s appearance as if to commit it to memory. Her hair was back in the long missed ponytail, keeping stray strands away from her face as she worked. The starch white lab coat, he subconsciously yearned to see her in again, was draped elegantly over her slim figure. Her face was no longer deathly pale and even had tiny traces of makeup dusting her features. She stood tall, strength had indeed returned to her in the time he was away. He felt the relief fill the emptiness of his core.

Talon hadn’t gotten to her.

Not yet, at least.

“When did you arrive at Headquarters?” the curious female’s question returned his mind to reality.

“…About 30 minutes ago,” was his languid reply.

She didn’t need to know that he spent every second of that half hour searching for the formerly wounded woman. Sneaking through the halls of the medical building, he went through every possible room when he couldn’t find her in the Intensive Care Unit. The desperate man had even gone to her personal quarters to check. She _definitely_ didn’t need to know that last location.

The Doctor let out a long sigh before her expression morphed into a stern look, “Reyes, you have been on a mission for the past three weeks. It is best for you to regain lost sleep. The healthy amount is a minimum of seven hours every night, which I am sure you have not gotten.” She fussed over him.

With a huff of slight amusement, the Commander took a step back to glance over the Doctor, crossing his arms in the process. “You’re one to talk. You probably haven’t gotten ‘seven hours of sleep’ in your entire life.” A slight teasing tone seeped into his normally steely timbre.

God, how she missed his remarks.

“Oh, are you worried, Commander?” the young woman returned in her own taunting tone, a minor smirk resting upon her lips.

“Yes.”

Mercy’s chest tightened, the mocking smile quickly dropping from her face. She was taken aback by the directness of his response. The physician had thought that he would divert the question with one of his own, but to answer so unwaveringly, so _honestly,_ she wasn’t able to reply.

Blood began to rise to her cheeks in an embarrassed manner as the Doctor turned back to her workstation, hoping he wouldn’t see her defeat.

In turn, he decided to lean against one of the clean counters across from the laboratory table, observing her musings.

A long silence encompassed the chilled room. Not exactly awkward, but not exactly comfortable.

The Commander finally decided to break it, “…What are you working on so late?”

Ziegler glanced over to him as he situated himself at her side. Not many people were interested in her work. They never cared about the details; they only cared about results. But she had noticed that Reyes would often inquire about her research. He never understood any of it when she explained, but she always felt a surge of exhilaration when she got to share it with him. She trusted him with the one thing she had put all of her energy and time into. Ultimately, she was sharing a part of herself.

More than that, when he asked, it showed her that he thought highly of her life’s labor. It showed her that he cared.

The Doctor couldn’t hold back the small grin that snaked its way onto her face as she began. “Right now, I am trying to upgrade the Caduceus staff in order to increase productivity.” Gradually, her face became more serious when she picked up one of her hand written notes, skimming over it as she spoke. “I am also trying to add a feature that has the possibility to save those in extremely critical conditions.” The Doctor paused as she reached for a piece of the broken tool to examine it alongside the diagram on the page. “Sadly, there is a point where I am not able to help a person if they have sustained too many injuries… Basically, when a person is on the brink of death.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think while I was in recovery... There might be a way for me to save a person _right_ before they die. That is to say, there is a small grace period where some of the organs are still working before they all stop permanently. A corpse’s heart can continue to beat for a few seconds before giving out. I could possibly send out a burst of nanotechnology that would quickly repair the entire body before the person’s life force leaves them.”

The woman finally looked to Reyes, placing both paper and piece down once more. “I know it is far fetched, but I’m willing to try. It will be a long journey to figure out the technicalities, but the concept is there.” A growing smile returned to her, her face practically glowing with excitement. “It would be astonishing to give someone a second chance.”

The Commander stared at her throughout her explanation. He could see the subtle determination in her expression. He could hear the passion in her words. He could see the light of hope in her eyes. All of it gave him a slight buzz in his chest that he couldn’t describe.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his throat as he shook his head slowly, “…Only you would think of something like that.” A pleased smirk played on his lips as he stared at her radiance.

Heat once again tinted her face pink, but this time she did not look away. She returned his smile for a lasting moment; both hearts unknowingly harmonized their beating. The Doctor turned back to her miracle in the making while the Commander continued to monitor.

As the minutes ticked by, a gnawing feeling began to form in the man’s stomach.

The new quietness grew from pleasant to eerie all too quickly.

“Doc…” He called out carefully, gaining the physician’s attention, “…I... have a request.” He broke the icy feeling in the air with the gruffness of his timbre.

Dr. Ziegler looked up from the workstation to inspect him. Instinctively, she began inspecting his dark eyes for some sort of answer.

“… Request?” her tone was slow yet gentle, treading lightly. She didn’t want to mishandle the trust he was granting her. The Commander was known for never seeking favors. He didn’t like being indebted to somebody. “You’ve never asked me for something before… Is everything alright?”

Reyes shifted his gaze to the floor instead of her prying pupils. She could always read him. Their understanding of each other helped them get through many situations together, but it also hindered confidentiality on both ends. He gave a long sigh, trying to control himself. Frustration festered, slowly rising from his toes until it became present in his darkening orbs.

Mercy felt panic settle in her stomach at his silence. Ever so gently she stepped closer to him, abandoning her unfinished project. Her soothing voice attempted to persuade an answer out of him. “…Gabriel?”

The man in question closed his eyes tightly and, with a deep breath, finally spoke, “…It’s McCree,…” he looked back to the Doctor’s comfortingly blue eyes. “…Angela,… He lost his arm.”

The only sound she was able to make was the sharp intake of air; the rest of her body was paralyzed in shock. She continued to search his broken expression, hoping desperately that he was jesting. However, she knew very well that Reyes never joked. The closest he got was witty insults.

After stifling silence, her voice eventually returned to her, yet it barely reached above a whisper, “…What?”

The Commander closed off his body even further by tightening the arms across his chest and slumping his shoulders further inward. Slowly, he began to explain. “… During the mission, we had a run in with… a Talon Agent…” It was better for her not to know that Amélie, no ‘Widowmaker,’ was behind the attack. That bitch had already caused enough damage to the medic. Both mentally and physically.

“McCree was keeping watch when she attacked. She tried to stab him with a knife, aiming for one of his organs. But the kid was quick and used self defense, taking the knife to the arm instead of the stomach. It was the smarter thing to do.” Reyes eventually looked over to the Doctor, letting the seriousness of his words affect his expression.

“…But he didn’t know it was tipped. The poison spread throughout his body. We got him to the closest Overwatch Base, but he was in bad shape. The Doctors were able to detoxify his bloodstream, but the arm’s wound was too severely infected with the poison… It had to be sacrificed in order to save his life.”

The dullness in Reyes’ eyes returned. Mercy had managed to reignite the spark of life within them thanks to their earlier conversation, but the teasing atmosphere was long gone. Even though his eyes returned to their deceased appearance, rage still contorted his features. It only continued to fester and coil within his core until he was no longer able to stay composed.

“Dammit!” Reyes slammed his fist on the counter he was leaning on, turning away from the Doctor. “If we could have made it back to Headquarters, you could have saved every part of him!”

Mercy didn’t even flinch as the loud metallic bang filled the quiet space. The skilled woman was quite familiar with his fury, but she discovered that this ran deeper than basic anger. He wasn’t truly mad at the Doctors who helped his subordinate. He wasn’t mad at McCree. He wasn’t mad at her.

He was mad at himself.

Lost in self-loathing that manifested in the front of his mind, forcing him to atone with restless hours every night. It explained his apparent sleep deprivation.

The younger female knew how close the two men were, although Reyes would constantly deny their affiliation. He cared for McCree the most out of his brigade. Possibly the most out of the whole of Overwatch. Guilt must have torn him apart to leave him this badly battered.

Gingerly, Angela approached. She hesitantly rested her slender fingers upon his fisted hand. “… I think you put too much faith in me.” A somber expression seeped into her features. “Although it is possible that my nanotechnology could have saved the appendage, it is also possible that I couldn’t have as well.” The woman gently lifted his fist from the countertop, limp and heavy in disdain. Delicately, she encompassed his hand in both of hers as she continued to speak. “I was still in recovery. If he still needed the amputation… I would not have been able to preform the procedure. My inability could have wasted more time and allowed the poison to spread further… What the Doctors did was the best course of action.”

Reyes continued to glare scorch-marks into the floor, letting her words sink in past the haze of anger. Eventually he nodded with a weighty sigh, “…I know… And that’s what pisses me off.”

He felt the cool touch of Angela’s fingers cupping his cheek while she continued to hold his hand with her other. Upon the new sensation, his eyes swiftly found hers again and stayed locked on her stone-faced appearance.

“Gabriel, I need you to listen to me,” she began, her tone as stern as her expression before they both smoothed into something filled with affection, “What happened was not your fault. I am sure you did everything you could… but sometimes ‘everything’ isn’t enough.” Her thumb lightly brushed against his sharp cheekbone. “…Trust me.” The Doctor gave him a miniature smile, full of melancholy and regret.

He stared in slight disbelief. Angela read him so well. She knew every thought that whizzed through his mind. Thoughts filled with hatred. Thoughts filled with grief. And she could so easily pull him away from his berating brain.

He was always grateful for that.

Reyes saw decision flicker in her warmly blue eyes before she detached herself from him. Much to his displeasure, the solider subconsciously leaned into her retreating fingers as they left his marred face. All he could do was watch her return to the messy table before quickly and quietly clearing the flat surface of any research or equipment.

Reyes examined the Doctor in confusion as she flitted from countertop to desk carrying stacks of paper. “…What are you doing?”

“He is going to need a new arm, right?”

The Commander nodded once, words failing him as he felt a surge of heat flow through his chest. Warmth that finally relaxed the muscles that guarded his heart. A miniscule smile full of renegade emotions wormed its way onto his face while the woman was preoccupied. Walking up behind her as she gathered materials, he inquired, “What about your ‘second chance?’”

“I am giving someone a ‘second chance’ right now,” the Doctor completed her task and turned back to the Commander, not realizing he was standing so close. Yet, she did not falter. The Angel merely gazed up at him with a heartfelt smile, “The staff, however, can wait.”

Her cerulean pupils glittered with kindness. The tiny crinkle underneath the two orbs only enhanced the feeling behind them. Her pale skin radiant with life she was willing to share with everyone she met. Her expression as light as her smile, even her lips-

 

Without a single thought, Reyes captured those elegant lips within his.

Angela froze, eyes widened in shock. A burst of adrenaline encompassed her torso. Her spine became ridged at the unfamiliar feeling of lips pressed firmly against hers.

The physician had never entangled herself in romantic relationships, let alone physical ones. She had seen her fellow students give up their dream in medicine all for the sake of ‘love’ countless times before. Seen horrid fights between couples, coworkers and patients alike. Seen unfaithful partners in the hospital storage closets. Seen many men and women rushed to the emergency room due to their spouses need to ‘blow off some steam.’ Her experiences caused her to swear to never tie herself down with the weight of romance. Work didn’t betray her like the despicable dating pool she saw many drowning in. If she even dared to dip her toes in the water, she knew that she would be pulled under. Water soaking her wings like cement and ceaselessly trapping her in the current. She wanted to fly. She wanted to fly above everyone else in the medical field and devote her time to the needs of others, not to the needs of one.

And yet.

The pressure of the man’s slightly chapped lips.

Her stringent back unconsciously began to lessen.

The slight tickle of his facial hair.

Her eyelids began to droop closed to savor the new sensation.

The hesitance and seeking of acceptance in the greeting of lips.

Angela began to return it.

The kiss gradually became mutual. She met him with the same uncertainty, but a fire began to simmer in her stomach. She couldn’t control her body any longer. Her hands lightly slid up his chest before curling around his sturdy neck and shoulders, gently pulling him further down for better access. Her fingers slowly carded through the short hair at the base of his neck.

Once he felt her reciprocate, Reyes strengthened the kiss. Leisurely, he moved his lips in the steady dance they were creating. His hands instinctually settled on her curvy hips, persuading their bodies to come closer together. Her warmth was all he focused on as the chill of the air-conditioned office attempted to permeate his skin.

The passion between the two flourished before lazily slowing. They unhurriedly pulled away, both breathing heavily due to the emotion they poured into the locking of lips. Their eyes fluttered opened, staring at each other in close proximity. Both considering new colors within the other’s pupils they had never noticed before.

They stayed in each other’s arms for a long moment, just admiring the other.

“…So,” the woman breathlessly began, “About McCree’s cybernetics, I will need to schedule a primary appointment to discuss-” Reyes didn’t even allow her to finish her sentence before silencing her with another kiss. This one was much shorter and less full of desire, but still passionate nonetheless. He pulled back only a centimeter, the tips of their lips brushing against each other as he whispered.

“…Just shut up, Doc….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally June!! I'm sorry that this chapter took so long, problems just kept popping up left and right. But thankfully, life has settled down a bit. I tried my best to give you a chapter that you all will enjoy! Please let me know what you think, especially since this update is such a pivotal one. Thank you guys for reading!
> 
> (Shout-out to all of my lovely beta-readers for giving me the confidence I desperately needed to finish this chapter.)


	12. Chapter 12

There was the smallest bit of hesitation as he wiggled the metallic phalanges of the newly attached cybernetic. McCree inspected the hand with awe, surprised that he was actually able to move the arm on command. He continued to maneuver the wired arm in all sorts of directions, testing its abilities and limitations. After he had had his fun, he let the appendage rest upon his knee.

“Well, shoot…” The country boy whistled breathily as he finally looked up to the woman sitting in front of him, “I wasn’t expectin’ nothin’ like this.”

The devoted Doctor leaned back in her stool with a pleased sigh, watching the man in front of her as joy crept up his face.

“Please keep in mind that this is only a temporary prototype. I will have a fully customized model by the end of the week, but for now I would like to complete a few tests. I need to know what adjustments to make.” Dr. Ziegler informed the Blackwatch operative, however he seemed to not be listening.

The cowboy was too preoccupied digging through his jean’s pocket. Once he found what he was looking for, he reached into his vest’s pocket to take out a mashed cigarette. With unabashed desperation, he held the Tabaco filled cylinder between his lips with his new hand and quickly lit it with the lighter grasped in the other. The ragged man inhaled deeply before melting into his chair with his leisurely exhale, closing his eyes in bliss.

The Doctor’s gaze grew stern, “Smoking is incredibly harmful to your health, McCree,” she scolded relentlessly, yet did not reach for the toxic torch. It seemed that every time she’d seen this man he had the filthy habit anchored in his mouth. No matter how much pestering she did, it never seemed to have any effect.

McCree groaned around the intrusion in his lips, “C’mon, Doc,” he peered at the blonde from his reclined position, “I haven’ been able to light ma own cig for the past two weeks.” He finally pulled the vice out of his mouth, flashing her his own brand of ‘puppy-dog eyes.’ “Can’t you allow me this one pleasure? Please?”

As usual, the innocent act didn’t faze her. She continued to give him a hard look, but said nothing further. Two weeks was a rather long time without an addictive. Ziegler was rather impressed. So the defeated Doctor chose to instead focus on the external portion of the man rather than the looming doom of the internal.

“Right. Can you attempt to move your thumb?” Ziegler inquired as she reached for her holographic Doctor’s log resting on the side-table next to her. “Try to focus on isolation.”

Obediently the cowboy followed the woman’s verbal commands, keeping the cigarette captive in his grin like a smug child with a lollipop. The metallic thumb moved up and down smoothly without any hesitation.

The physician’s fingers expertly typed on the pad to make a quick note, “Good, now both thumbs at the same time.”

He did so, but the two digits were out of sync. The thumb covered in flesh moved up while the cybernetic one moved down and vice versa.

The Doctor frowned as she hummed in dissatisfaction, “There seems to be a delay in the nerve connectivity... That is fairly easy to fix.” She placed down the tablet containing her mostly blank medical notes and gestured for him to give her his newly attached limb.

Once the arm was securely in her gloved hands, she began to tamper with a few of the cords on the exterior. However, the rush of her sliding office door opening caused the woman to glance up from her work.

The metal passageway revealed the broad form of Reyes. Upon his entrance, an unknown smile graced the Doctors lips before she promptly returned to her tinkering. “Odd to see you at this hour, Commander,” the woman greeted with a smooth yet impish timbre.

It was approximately mid-afternoon; the Commander typically showed himself after the sun had set. But the female physician was attuned to his relentless worry for his subordinate. Reyes was never a man of flowery words, so he would often make appearances to display his own form of comfort. She had noticed this subtle gesture when she herself was bedridden.

“That’s ‘cause HQ wants to work me to death,” the Commander grumbled as he strode over to the two-seated individuals.

A humorless chuckle escaped the younger woman, “I understand that feeling quite well,” she returned as she unplugged another wire before inspecting it for minor damage, not even gazing up from the technologically advanced prosthetic as she spoke.

“No, you’re just too stubborn to operate like a normal person,” the standing man chided, leaning slightly in her personal space to glance over her shoulder as her fingers created wonders.

To anyone else, his statement would sound like a jab. However, she knew from the minor lilt in his tone that he was initiating banter. A concealed smile barely lifted her lips as she retaliated, “Oh? Is that what you do, Commander? Behave like a ‘normal person?’”

“At least I stop working whenever I can catch a break,” he returned lightly yet an unmistakable tiredness rested within his voice.

“Then how is it that I often find you in my office during your ‘break?’”

“Because it’s the only place people don’t look for me.”

The blonde hummed in acknowledgement before softly murmuring, “Is that the only reason?” She connected eyes with the darker skinned man for the first time since he arrived. Her tone was monotonous, but her cobalt irises reflected the inner playfulness.

“So how long you two been bangin’?” McCree’s slurred question interrupted the Commander who had just opened his mouth to return his own.

The Doctor and Commander were taken aback by the bluntness of his inquiry, both heads whipping around to stare wide-eyed at the recuperating cowboy.

Reyes even went as far as to step away from the seated woman as if a bomb had just been activated. Hastily, he wrenched away the calloused hand that naturally rested on the younger female’s low back… without his knowledge.

The country boy watched the man and woman closely during their interaction. Something seemed different between them as they spoke. He knew they often argued like this, trying to grab the upper hand in a show of wits. But this time it was more than a play of tongues, but a subtle play of seduction. Both had the romantic ability of a sack of flour, but the spark of flirtation was present in the air surrounding them. Hell, they were so lost in the other that they forgot that the younger man was in the same room.

“McCree,” The Commander seethed through gritted teeth, his face growing red with both anger and embarrassment.

The cowboy raised his unoccupied hand in surrender, a common gesture for the troublemaker, as he spoke, “Simmer down now, I was just askin’. You two seem pretty snug together, by the looks o’ me.”

The older man continued to growl as he closed himself off with his arms across his chest, “You should know my personal matters are not to be discussed.”

The Doctor stayed quiet, finishing the country boy’s arm in record time. She stood as quickly as possible, keeping her expression cold yet heat dusted her cheeks red. “That should fix the connectivity issue, if you have any problems contact me immediately,” her voice stayed on a professional level, but she noticeably avoided eye contact with both men. She started to turn toward the door as she once again spoke, “Now, if you will excuse me. I have meeting with Strike-Commander Morrison.”

The atmosphere suddenly shifted, leaving ice within their veins.

Reyes’ hand suddenly reached out to grab hers before she could walk far enough away. His face became hard as his gaze unconsciously pierced the Doctor, “What the hell does _he_ want?”

The physician’s brows furrowed in slight confusion at his blunt tone and unsolicited actions. She started slowly, testing the boiling waters, “…I’m not sure. He just said he needed to speak with me.”

A small noise of contempt left the Blackwath Commander’s as his eyes and hand released her. “Figures.”

There was slight pause before he locked her once again in his softening gaze, seriousness and worry identifiable within it as he stepped closer. He was close enough to murmur to her without the other hearing, “Don’t let him bully you into anything, okay?” His voice held both hardness and tenderness within, the sternness portrayed the gravity of his words while the gentleness displayed the care he kept hidden.

Ziegler could only nod in return before heading toward the office’s exit.

There was a long pause as the Blackwatch Commander recomposed himself. He swiftly turned back to the seated operative. “Alright, you little shit, I want 50 laps around the complex.”

“Wha? But I’m injured,” the cowboy whined as he raised his robotic arm pathetically.

“Your legs aren’t,” Reyes retorted without missing a beat.

McCree groaned loudly as he stood, following his higher-up out of the medical building.

However, something continued to nag in the back of the younger male’s mind as he made his way to the elevators. He had gotten to know the Commander well after he was picked up from the Deadlock Gang. The Blackwatch leader basically took the no-good rebel-rouser under his wing. No matter how troublesome, the man stood by his side and coached him through many trials. McCree learned all throughout that time that Reyes was never the type to show physical affection; the most he got was a pat on the back every now and then.

But to see the seasoned man lower his guard enough to give such a gentle touch to the woman’s waist was completely new for him. It irked the cowboy in a way he couldn’t quite understand. In a way he would later need to explore for himself. But first, he would have to sit through his daily lecture within the confines of elevator walls.

His favorite part of the day.

 

 

Ziegler had gotten to the central building without much hassle. All the while, her persistent mind continued to calculate the reason for Reyes’ earlier behavior.

She knew that Blackwatch Commander and the Strike-Commander hadn’t gotten along recently, but they had been close friends in the past. Both had gone through thick and thin together ever since they joined the Solider Enhancement Program. Something serious must of happened to elicit such an explosive response from the man.

However, she hadn’t spoken to the older blonde in quite a while. Considering how much attention Overwatch needed in order to function successfully, he didn’t have much time for anything other than delegating orders. However, ‘successful’ would be the last word she would use to describe this organization as of late.

“Mercy!” She recognized the elated sound of her codename before she felt the full impact of a smaller body wrapping their arms around her from behind.

The young owner of the high-pitched voice tugged on her now wrinkled lab coat as she migrated to the front of the Doctor for cover. Before she knew it, the burly frame of the grey haired tank sauntered around the corner of the hallway. His shoulders were hunched and his hands extended far above his head in a claw like fashion, fingers wiggling menacingly. “YOU CANNOT ESCAPE FROM THE GREAT REINHARDT!”

The child grasping onto her for safety squealed as she buried her face into the woman’s stomach. “Mercy is Home-Base! You can’t attack when you’re touching Home-Base!!”

The Doctor chuckled at her childish antics. She went along with the assumingly new rule, hugging the child back fondly as if to shield her from the impending threat. “Playing ‘Hero’ again, Fareeha?” she questioned with an amused lilt in her tone.

“Yep, my rockets will defeat any bad guy!” The small girl stated as she looked up to the kind woman for the first time, eyes and smile aglow with the light of innocence.

The resemblance between mother and daughter was unmistakable.

A chill penetrated Mercy’s heart at the thought of the missing Captain. Flashes of Ana’s blood stained face splattered against the girl’s within the physician’s mind, encasing her in the suffocating walls of guilt. The blonde’s own features began to morph and mimic her inner turmoil.

No, keep it together.

She had to be strong.

“NOT IF MY EARTHSHATTER UPROOTS HOME-BASE!” with this battle cry, Mercy felt herself being lifted from the floor by two powerful arms. She instinctively tightened her hold on Fareeha as they were both held mid-air.

“Reinhardt!” the medic gasped in surprise.

The youngest of the three began to scream with laughter, squirming in order to escape but both grips made it impossible. “No Fair!!”

“ALL IS FAIR WITHIN THE HEAT OF BATTLE!” the burly man roared over the hysterical girl, laughter beginning to tickle his own lips.

“Reinhardt,” the woman repeated, “I would appreciate if you would release me.” Her voice was calm, yet not angry or cold in the slightest.

She was use to staying mid-air, but this was a completely different circumstance. It was unprofessional to lollygag when one has a pervious engagement.

The grey haired man realized he was keeping the medic hostage and gingerly lowered the two to the floor.

As soon as both pairs of feet touched solid ground, Fareeha bolted down the hallway, giggling all the while. “I will fly away and you will never be able to catch me again, evil-doer!”

Both adults chuckled as they watched the young girl frolic.

“I apologize, Dr. Ziegler,” Reinhardt spoke in a softer, less ear-piercing tone now that they were relatively alone.

“It’s quite alright,” the physician returned sincerely, eyes locked on the small girl’s shrinking back, “It’s nice to remember that we were all that carefree once…”

“Indeed… Sadly, much has changed.”

The Doctor nodded solemnly, her naivety had long since left her.

“…Reinhardt,” she hesitantly began, “Why haven’t you told her?”

Silence echoed throughout the hallway.

“Would _you_ want to tell a child their mother has died?” Melancholy undeniably twisted his face into someone unrecognizable.

The Doctor’s head snapped to stare at the man in shock and pain. “We don’t know that,” her tone was sharp, defensive.

“She has been missing for over a month… With the injuries you described, it would be impossible for someone to survive that long…” he stated in a voice that didn’t even seem like it belonged to the boisterous man, “...Even for the Captain…” The humongous teddy-bear refused to make eye contact with the Doctor, yet his voice told her everything she needed to know. The older male was known for his enormous heart, he was as torn up about Amari’s disappearance as much as she was.

Maybe even a little bit more.

The medic did not back down, instead she held her head high as she stated, “I refuse to believe that someone as strong as Ana would allow herself to die so easily.” She continued her trek down the long, unforgiving hallway, yet paused to speak once more, “I will cling to the hope that she is alive until I see her body for myself.”

Reinhardt’s smile, which was normally exuberant and full of life, diminished into something more bitter, more honest. “Thank you, Mercy.”

The Angel glanced over her shoulder back at the man, compassion radiating from her with hope in tandum. “I must be off on some urgent business. Let me know if you need anything, I specialize in all aspects of health.”

The grateful gentleman nodded, understanding her gentle insinuation of mental care before charging down the empty walkway with a large yell.

 

 

The knock she placed upon the door was firm, alerting those inside of her existence. After a moment of silence, the metallic door unlocked and slid open to reveal the Leader of Overwatch, Jack Morrison. He looked as though he aged ten years since last she saw him; his blonde locks were already streaked grey due to the constant stress consuming the man. The bags underneath his eyes and the almost unnoticeable stubble coating his jaw caused the man to look disheveled, which was odd for the normally well-put-together hero.

“…You wanted to see me, Strike-Commander?” Ziegler’s voice greeted naturally.

“Hey,” he returned tiredly, “Come on in.” Morrison stepped aside to allow the Doctor into the large conference room.

The lights were dimmed and the glowing tabletop in the center of the room provided an uneasy atmosphere. Above the white lighted furniture sat a hologram of the globe; An abundance of news reporters were on separate screens attached to the revolving map, giving details for several devastating massacres. The soft murmur of many different languages being spoken all at once was almost overwhelming.

Unaffected by the constant hum of ruin, the Strike-Commander returned to his seat at the head of the ever-stretching table. “It looks like you’ve recovered,” The tall male spoke casually, but his voice sounded raspy with lack of sleep.

“Yes, sir. My people are very capable.” The woman returned with a polite smile and remained standing beside the hovering earth.

The Head of Medical Research refused to mention her own self-treatment. She needed to keep her department in good standing with the higher-ups, funds being deducted from the medical branch at this time would be critical. “What did you need, Strike-Commander?” the physician quickly turned the focus away from herself.

Said man released a lengthy sigh as he rubbed a hand over his forehead, willing away the tension there. “No need to be so formal, Mercy. It's just me.”

The Doctor simply nodded, “My apologizes.”

Stillness filled the room as the two simply stared at each other.

After the achingly slow moment had passed, the Strike-Commander silenced the never-ending voices of devastation; the world’s hologram sank to a deeper color as it spun peacefully at a sluggish pace, giving the façade of harmony.

“As you just saw, within the past 12 hours there have been 3 natural disasters and 8 Rebel attacks world wide,” The Organization’s Leader's voice held monotony, as if he had been repeating these same words for months but substituting the numbers and body counts. “And those are only the ones that have international coverage, there are countless more regional tragedies happening hourly.”

The normally charming man seemed to be dunked into the scalding pot of death, mentally condensed by the pressure. The longer he stays in, the more likely he is to get burned.

“We aren’t able to give assistance to every location, but we might as well try to save all that we can. We need to start with the major cities hit by disaster and hope that local authorities can help the smaller areas.”

The blonde woman’s brows knitted together as she listened, her thoughts drifted to the lives that will be lost without Overwatch’s help. The compelling demand to speak bubbled up the longer he spoke.

“Excuse me, Morrison,” the Doctor interrupted curtly, “But our efforts would be better used in the towns instead of the cities. The larger communities have better hospitals and rescue squadrons than the smaller ones.” The stubborn physician was known to speak against the Commanders and their orders; she couldn’t let her reputation fall especially when there was obvious fault in his plan.

The Overwatch Leader remained silent for a moment, staring at the Doctor with eyes like stones. “… I need you and a few other medics in Nigeria,” he continued his speech as if she had never interrupted him in the first place, “There has been a huge bombing in one of the cities there. It was hit heavily by the Omnic Crisis, and just as they were starting to rebuild, they were hit again with this assault.”

“Sir, with all due respect, my team is capable enough to handle the mission without my help. I would like to be stationed elsewhere.” She stood tall with her head held high as she persisted; the eye contact between the two displayed the unspoken tension. If he wasn’t going to heed her advice, she would fight until he at least considered it.

Morrison unhurriedly stood from his throne, locking his arms behind his back ‘at attention.’ “There is another reason I want you there other than civilian rescue,” the man moved from behind the table, standing parallel to her in the darken room. “But first, is your communicator activated?”

The Doctor’s head subtly tilted at the odd inquiry. “...Why do you ask?”

“Is your communicator activated?” he repeated slowly.

“Yes.”

“Turn it off.”

“But if there is an emergency-“

“I think you’ll want to hear this.”

Ziegler’s hand instinctively reached for her emergency contactor, which resided on her hip, two pairs of blue eyes never leaving the other. Her communicator sung a lone beep, alerting both parties that the device had successfully shut down.

The Strike-Commander waited a second more to make certain the walls weren't listening, “There have been rumors of Captain Amari escaping to ‘The City of Harmony.’”

Ziegler felt a jolt of adrenaline rush through her nervous system as every word tickled her ears.

They had reports of Amari being alive? Why wasn’t she notified earlier? Why should it be kept a secret? There were plenty of people who were worried about the Captain’s survival besides herself.

“…Are you sure?”

“Would I lie about something like this?” He returned with utter seriousness in his tone, “If it is true that Ana is severally injured and somehow escaped her last mission, I want you to treat her wounds and bring her back to Headquarters safely.”

It didn't add up.

Why would the veteran seeking sanctuary in Numbani? Of course, the obscurity of a newly constructed city would keep her from those who wanted her dead. But why wouldn't she return to the Swiss Base where it was better protected and armed? This matter definitely needed investigation, however why would the Strike-Commander send her of all people? She is a first responder, yes, but not a military scout.

 _“Don’t let him bully you into anything,”_ Reyes’ warning resurfaced in her mind as she examined Morrison’s behavior.

The offer was too tempting and the older male knew it.

Nevertheless, Mercy was ready. It was time for her to get back on the field; she had been itching to ever since she was bedridden.

Determination flared.

She would bring the Captain back alive. No one would need to crush Fareeha with the news of her lost mother.

“Understood, when do we leave?”

“In 1600 hours. In the meantime, I will assign the other personnel for this mission.” The Strike-Commander added, stepping closer to the shorter woman.

The physician nodded in acceptance, yet the other blonde now stood only a foot away from the woman. His proximity forced the enormous room seem cramped and confined. It was enough to cause an uncertain sting to swirl up her spine, but she did not back away or down.

“I expect a full report,” he spoke lowly, only wanting her to hear despite there being no other persons in the sizeable conference room. “There aren’t many people I can trust nowadays. I’d like to keep you on that list.”

The Head of Medical Research’s eyes narrowed at his words, suspicion began to blossom in her gut.

“…I assume Commander Reyes is no longer 'registered?'”

His oceanic eyes seemed to harden, an impending hurricane just on the horizon. Morrison struggled to mask the waves of emotions from the observant Doctor. Morrison haphazardly turned away from Ziegler, hands balling into heavy fists. “Gabe has his own problems to deal with,” similar to his facial features, his tone had steeled.

His words set Mercy into a state of apprehension. She needed to know which ‘problems’ he was referring to.

Immediately.

"Wh-"

“That will be all, _Doctor_.” Strike-Commander Morrison abruptly dismissed her as soon as she uttered her first syllable.

The physician was taken aback by her sudden dismissal, but nodded discerningly. Her azure eyes took one last lingering look of the man towering over her.

“Yes, Strike-Commander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for waiting for me to get my life together. This chapter was hard to write since it followed such a 'major milestone chapter...' But hopefully it is to your liking! I have gotten so many kind comments from you all, thank you so much!! They really motivated me and let me know that you guys actually enjoy my stupid story. Anyway, thank you again for reading and please let me know what you think!
> 
> (Shout-out to my lovely beta-readers for helping me with the many difficulties of this chapter!)


	13. Chapter 13

The walk down the hallway was uncomfortably silent. Ziegler continued without pause until she was at least a complex away from the central building. The new information about her mission caused both fear and determination to spike. Finding the missing captain would be her top priority, but she would also never dismiss the crumbling city and it’s people.

Her rapid feet carried her over to the living quarters without her conscious knowledge. It was already evening, so she allowed herself a small break to freshen up before the drudging pace of the night shift claimed her. The Doctor advanced en route to her own abandoned quarters, glancing at the names imprinted on each door as she walked past. Her wandering eyes eventually fell upon Amari’s name neatly inscribed. The woman's feet halted as she became enraptured with the letters, giving attention to each one.

Soon she would discover what truly happened.

A lengthy period passed before she continued her trek, only to be stopped again by one other word: REYES.

The female physician hesitated once more, standing frozen in the middle of the empty hallway. The swarming thoughts she always trapped inside herself were starting to bubble up her throat. She had to tell him about this mission. The Blackwatch Commander had been so serious when the Strike-Commander called upon her. It was only right to confide in him with this new quest.

If they didn't keep trust in the forefront, then there could be no way a relationship between them would work.

_A relationship?_

She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

In fact, all of this weren’t in her plans to begin with. Joining the global organization had never crossed her mind throughout med-school, but look at her now. Head of Medical Research. Life seemingly found pleasure in its unpredictability.

The straightforward-minded Doctor often told herself romanticism would only cause complications. Yet here she was ready to take the plunge for a man whom was always shrouded in shadow. Always hidden in the darkened black… but always right beside her.

Not even knowing if he was in his quarters, Ziegler approached the door. He could quite easily be doing all that needs to be done to run a sub-organization. However, her intuition persuaded her to raise her loose fist of a hand.

The woman needed to know exactly what was between them.

After their first sign of… intimate contact… she hadn’t truly spoken to the man. Now would be to perfect opportunity to set things straight.

With that thought, Ziegler took a calming breath before knocking firmly upon the metal sheet that comprised of the Commander’s door.

 

 

His eyes snapped open and a sharp inhale of breath entered his lungs as soon as he heard the metal rap against the entryway. Hastily, he pushed himself off the black leather couch, a hand instinctually reached for the nearest twin shotgun. Aiming mercilessly in the direction of the sound.

Eyes searing into the door as if to see through its thick layers.

Heart Pounding.

Sweat dripping down his temple.

He took in all of his surroundings, attempting to grasp ahold of the situation. Familiar accouterments scattered throughout the room were accompanied memories.

_I got the afternoon off… Decided to spend my time usefully, i.e. sleeping… Shitfaces said they would only bother me during an emergency._

Reyes set his gun back onto the coffee table only to replace his empty grasp with his emergency contactor.

No messages.

Then who the hell would be at the door? He doesn’t often find time for leisure, so it better be fucking good.

 

 

The anxious female waited for a few moments, ice swirling in her stomach the longer she stood. Ziegler was not accustomed to stepping out of her comfort zone and at this point she was stepping off the roof of the medical building. However, her agony suddenly ceased with the abrupt sliding of the door.

“What the hell do you-…” the owner’s voice was trapped within the lingering growl of sleep, yet still held the bite of malice. His sentence and anger suddenly ceased when both pairs of eyes met. “…Doc… What are you doing here?”

After the initial shock, one of Reyes’ calloused hands dragged across his face, rubbing away the remainder of his rest. The other clutched the doorframe… unintentionally flexing his sun kissed arm nicely… His normally straightened posture was nowhere in sight as he loomed over the shorter woman.

The semi-conscious man’s attire was also jarring for the poor Doctor. She rarely saw him without a bulletproof vest strapped to his torso excluding physical examinations. And yet, the Blackwatch Commander was only clad in a black, sleeveless muscle shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. Even his commonplace beanie was missing from his head, showing the beginnings of scruffy curls. The blonde had never seen his hair longer than a buzz cut, but she would be lying if she said the sway of his natural hair wasn’t attractive.

“…Angela?” Reyes prompted softer, effectively pulling her out of her trance.

Willing away the redness of embarrassment from her cheeks and clearing her throat, she began, “Um… Yes… Gab-Commander Reyes… May I take a moment of your time?” Her eyes shifted down both sides of the hallway, making sure they weren’t being overheard. “…In private?”

Reyes observed the woman’s behavior, also surveying the empty hallway in confusion.“…Sure,” he murmured as he stepped aside, allowing the Doctor into his rather humble abode.

His quarters were a mirror image of her own, the furniture being the same standard model. It was tidy albeit barren; he didn’t seem to have any personal items in the living area. The only evidence of someone owning the space were the well-known hat and weapons on the coffee table along with the pillow resting on one edge of the couch.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Gabriel…” she accused as soon as she heard the telling click of the entryway closing behind her, “Do you always sleep on your couch?”

Reyes sighed and she could almost hear the eye-roll accompanying it, “And what’s wrong with that?”

The Doctor broke her death glare at the piece of furniture and whipped around to steady her gaze on the older man. “Constantly sleeping on the couch can not only disrupt the body’s sleep cycle, but can also cause strain to the neck and back muscles leading to chronic pain overtime.”

“You really like harassing me for life choices, don’t you, Doc?” the Commander breathed as a smile threatened to set his teeth on display.

His loosing battle was contagious, causing the woman to also hide her oncoming grin, “Almost as much as you.”

A pleasant and comfortable silence settled between them; a kind of peace they hadn’t experienced in a measurable amount of time. They both stood staring at each other as an emotion along the lines of happiness blossomed in their chests.

After a long moment, Reyes strode over to the couch, removing his pillow from its favorite spot. “…Go ahead and sit down,” he mentioned as he passed over to the door that kept his bedroom hidden.

“I never knew you were such a host,” the blonde remarked with an illusive hint of sarcasm.

“I have a strict ‘no-guest’ policy,” he shot back after throwing the ball of feathers within the depths of the other room.

“Then it’s quite the honor to be the first.”

The Commander glanced over to the quick-witted woman with half-hearted disdain, but her ever-present grace captured his attention.

Angela nearly floated to her seat in the center of the black leather. Her shapely torso was completely straight, not even leaning on the backrest of the settee. The proper posture for a proper lady. Her sharp eyes examined ever detail of the room, absorbing every bit of information she could. The female delicately tucked a few stray strands of blonde behind her ear, allowing more of her elegant facial features to be seen. Reyes couldn’t help but notice how her grey pencil skirt rode up in her seated position; her pale, creamy legs crossed dainty while peeking out from under her crisp lab coat…

The male had to reel his eye away from the Doctor, staring at the bland carpeted floor or anything else that wasn’t the beauty in front of him.

“…So…” Reyes coughed slightly as his nervous tick made itself present, his rough fingers snagging on prominent curls. He inwardly hated the length of his hair, much preferring the common buzz cut to the unruly battleground of frizz. Eventually he continued, “…What do you need?”

“…It is not that I need something in particular. More like, I wanted to confer.” The Head of Medical Research’s voice held a professional tone, yet a glimmer of vulnerability shone within it.

Reyes’ amber pupils once again settled on Ziegler. Cautiously he stepped forward, his stance in juxtaposition with the Doctor across the wooden coffee table. “…About?”

"...Well..." It was the blonde’s turn to break eye contact, heat traitorously rising to her face. Her fingers began to fiddle with the hem of her skirt as if methodically counting the stitches there. “The first line of business would have to be discussing our... relations.”

An excruciatingly awkward paused followed her sentence.

The physician mentally cursed herself, tightening the hands that rested in her lap. She was nowhere near her safety net of topics. Ziegler would much rather explain gastric bypass to a batch of squirmy kindergarteners than continue with the subject of possible romance. In all actuality, her instincts were telling her to scurry back to her office. The medic was never much of a fighter; she much preferred flight in dangerous situations. And this was a definite danger to her sanity.

Yet she stayed.

The stubborn woman needed confirmation. She could not allow the uncertainty of their mutual captivation of one another, or lack there of, to consistently eat away her thoughts. The female physician continuously played the scene of last night in her head, leaving her unfocused for most of the morning. A distracted Doctor could misdiagnose, miscalculate and mistreat their patients and that was not an option.

So Ziegler would have to accept the torturous topic in order to scrounge up answers.

Reyes was visibly taken aback by her words, he took a moment to observe the medic where she sat. This was the most uncomfortable he had ever seen her. This woman had nerves of steel, so for her to display such uncharacteristic behavior spoke volumes. In truth, he also dreaded this conversation, but came to the conclusion that it would have to happen at some point. Ultimately, he was the one who acted impulsively.

“Well, its pretty obvious that I find you attractive,” the male stated as he slipped both of his hands into his pants pocket.

Ziegler blinked up at him at the bluntness of his answer, slowly responding, “…Well, yes… I also find you… pleasing to the eye.”

Reyes couldn’t hold back a snort, “That’s your assessment? ‘Pleasing to the eye?’”

The woman shot up from her seat while looking completely scandalized. Her face grew increasingly in color as she scoffed in return, “Gabriel, this is a serious matter!”

The taller male strode around the miniature table until he was standing right in front of the woman, leaving little distance between the two persons. “I am serious.”

Simmering brown once again captured frozen blue. Breath unconsciously becoming short.

“I can’t say us becoming a… _thing_ is a good idea… But, fuck, do I want to.”

‘“…A thing…?’” The inquisitive physician questioned, eyes flickering to the floor before being pulled by the magnetic force of his dark pupils once more, “…Meaning a _partnership_ … Correct?”

“…Yeah…”

The silence that followed held the reluctance of a child standing on the edge of a diving board for the first time. The terror of the unknown but the exhilaration to take the leap encompassed them.

Ever so gently their hands brushed together, fingertips touching fingertips with miniscule caresses. Time seemed to stand still as sun-kissed skin explored sun-bleached and vice versa. Eventually both appendages locked their grip together as if a penny were hidden between the two palms.

“That is… If you want to… Angela,” the taller man murmured barely above a whisper.

“Yes." She stated determinedly, not an ounce of regret in her tone, "I want to."

Ziegler tightened her hold on his as she continued, “…I also do not condone our relationship due to our current circumstances, but… I don’t think I can focus properly until we settle this.”

A smirk tickled his lips, “Settle…? That’s an interesting choice of words.”

The younger woman’s face bloomed with color via his inquiry, an ombre affect of pinks and reds. “Gabriel, please…” she pleaded exasperatedly, her empty hand coming up to hide the art show dotting her cheeks. “I don’t know what I’m doing. This is all very odd for me.”

“And I’m some sorta romance guru, Doc?” he derided, before his voice took on a tender tone, “I don’t know what I’m doing either… I’m kinda scared shitless at the moment.” His brown irises once again made acquaintance with the carpet.

Both man and woman hesitantly locked eyes after a few moments of silence, pupils showing a new level of defenselessness that neither were accustomed to seeing. Ever so slowly, they drew closer to the other. As if the person standing in front of them was their new center of gravity. Only once they drew impossibly close, did they release the breath they simultaneously held captive in their lungs.

Hearts pounding within ears.

Fingers trembling with the ache to touch.

Finally, they both leaned forward, allowing their lips to brush against the other’s in a kiss of uncertainty.

Once the spark of intimacy passed through their bodies thanks to the tentative greeting of lips, the two gradually melted into the kiss and allowed it to deepen. The fluttering of eyelashes tickled each other’s cheeks as their lips danced with increasing passion. Their inhibitions disappearing the longer their lips touched. Reyes’ larger palms naturally slid into place on the small of Ziegler’s back, while Ziegler’s delicate fingers traced each of Reyes’ ribs. Pleasant exhales were subconsciously released before the next series of kisses began.

After a few minutes, both parties were left breathless, lips reddening from their persistent encounters.

Silence other then their uneven panting filled the room. Eyes cracked to gaze into the other’s pupils with smiles twinkling within. Ever so slowly, they pulled away. Straightening their posture and correcting any articles of clothing that became wrinkled in their endeavors.

Clearing his throat, Reyes spoke lowly, “Well, I guess there’s no avoiding it, huh?”

Ziegler allowed a small chuckle to escape before returning, “I suppose not… But we have to keep this from the others. I want what we have to stay between _us_.”

“Agreed.”

They stood a moment longer, uncontainable smirks tugging their lips upward. The male and female both recognized the newfound serenity in the air and freely took a seat on the couch next to them. Shy smiles still lingering on their faces.

“I am honestly surprised that I was able to find you here.”

It was Gabriel’s turn to huff a short laugh, “Normally, I wouldn’t be. I was given the afternoon to myself since I haven’t been at Head-Quarters in a month.”

Ziegler nodded understandingly, spending the same amount of time in recovery. “How was the Russian Base? I have not been there in quite some time.”

The Commander allowed himself to spread out on his own sofa, arms resting on the backs of the furniture yet not close enough to touch the graceful woman next to him.

He wanted to.

But he also didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much stimuli. They were both still new to this. It's best to take things slowly.

“Practically the same. The weather is shit though; I didn’t even leave the complex so I wouldn’t freeze my ass off.”

Gentle laughter escaped the Doctor, scooting a bit closer to the casually seated Commander, “You never were able to handle the cold. If you are not careful this winter, you might catch a case of hypothermia.” Her teasing tone accompanied the sparkle in her azure eyes.

“Hey, we don’t get winter in LA, it stays 70 degrees year round.”

“You mean, 21 degrees.”

Reyes gave the smug female a side-eyed look, “Alright, smart-ass.” He leaned closer as he murmured sharply, “21 degrees… At least you’re use to the weather here.”

Ziegler hummed in agreement, meeting him head-on for their usual banter session, “You are correct, being born in Switzerland has its perks.” The younger woman relaxed into the couch backing, slotting herself underneath his wingspan candidly.

The man recognized the physician’s proximity and a hint of uncertainty gurgled in his chest. With an unnatural amount of caution, Reyes lowered his arm to lie on her dainty shoulders. The younger woman noticed the extra weight, but didn’t comment or pull away.

That’s a good sign.

Right?

The Blackwatch Commander forcibly reigned his thoughts back to the conversation, “I'm just curious,” the taller male started, rubbing the back of his curly head with his unoccupied hand, “You've been here all your life, right? Why did you become a doctor?”

The Head of Medical Research visibly paled, spine becoming stringent at the sudden personal question. Her heart was seized with memories she had long since forgotten.

Or more likely ignored.

Reyes was instantly aware of the change in her demeanor. He internally cursed himself for ruining their light atmosphere with a seemingly simple question. The Blackwatch Operative knew he could be rather intense without meaning to be and purposely treaded lightly around their budding relationship. However, being careful didn't seem like it was helping either.

_Fuck._

A torturously long moment slid past before a heavy sigh left the burdened physician.

With how close she had gotten to the Commander throughout these past five years, he was likely to ask at some point. Albeit, this time she was more inclined to answer instead of brush him off like she often did when topics got too sensitive. It was inevitable.

“…I decided to become a doctor at a very young age,” Angela began languidly, pulling Gabriel out of his self-destructing thoughts. She brought her legs up onto the leather surface after slipping off her black heels. Her smooth, unmarked legs brushed against his Overwatch branded sweatpants. Her position was a physical display of the battle within her mind. Her body’s instinct to protect itself as her mental walls deconstructed.

Reyes stayed quiet, left arm still wrapped around her tightening form as if to subtly encourage her.

“My parents were both notable in the medical field. My father was a surgeon and my mother was a researcher. Mutti was best known for her cure for the extinct disease known as Cancer. It practically sky rocketed her career.” She spoke fondly, a gentle yet undeniably somber smile bloomed on her lips. Her azure eyes became unfocused, lost in times long past. “Vati was often away, travelling to any place that needed help. I admired my parents for many years, saw the good that they did for others and desired to do the same once I became older.”

Ziegler paused in her story, blinking a few times before her irises drew to the fidgeting fingers in her lap. "...The Omnic Crsis was not kind to any of us. Vati was already stationed near the front lines in Eichenwalde and Mutti joined him when assistance became low.”

The younger woman breathed in a lengthy inhale as eye contact was once again achieved between the man and woman. “They were both killed when a Bastion Combat Unit stormed their medical tent… I was 12 years old at the time.”

Gabriel steeled himself. Normally he never found himself as a sympathetic person, but to hear such a travesty from the fortitudinous female was like a dagger to his gut. Keeping their eyes locked, he subtly tightened his grip around her upper back.

“After that I devoted myself to medicine. I took all of Mutti’s research entries and Vati’s old medical textbooks and studied all that I could. I was already above average academically, and was able to graduate college at the age of 16. Then graduated medical school at the age of 20. I spent a few years as the Head Surgeon of one of the most prominent hospitals in Switzerland. Around then, I had developed the beginnings of nanotechnology, which Overwatch was very interested in… and you know the rest.”

“…That’s…” Gabriel began softly, dark brown eyes helplessly searched the floor for words.

The world’s best surgeon’s mouth became upturned sweetly, almost sickeningly so, as she placed a delicate hand upon his thigh for assurance, “You do not need to say anything. It is in the past. I have the future to look forward to.”

Her words caused the Blackwatch Commander to glace at the half-hearted smile on her face, yet her stormy eyes told another story.

However, He was at a loss. Inept at inspirational speeches, agitation began to override his empathy.

_Why the hell is she trying to comfort **me**?_

The lurch in his chest pushed him forward to place a vigorous kiss upon her smooth lips, willing away any lingering sadness.

As they say, ‘actions speak louder than words.’

Once they parted, Angela’s grin turned more sincere. She allowed herself to lean against his rocklike torso, using his strength as her own. Reyes’ larger palm deliberately slid from the sleeve of her medical jacket down to the seam on her waist, pulling her into him protectively. Another pause followed them as they curled together. The touch of the other relieved the bitter thoughts that swirled relentlessly. And for some unknown reason, Reyes felt an uncommon yearning to share his own experiences.

A symbol of trust to build the foundation of companionship upon.

“I was raised by a single-mother in the slums of Los Angeles,” the older male stated monotonously.

The blonde raised her head from where it rested on his shoulder in order to read his expression. Finding cracks in his psychological armor was more difficult than usual, heightening her focus on each word uttered.

“Never even met my father, he left before he knew Mamá was pregnant.” He continued with little emotion, “Didn’t have money for college, so the military seemed like the best option. After a few years, I rose through the ranks until I got a senior officer position.” He finally connected amber irises with azure, a poignant smirk tweaked his mustache upwards. “As you know, Doc, I was chosen for the ‘Solider Enhancement Program...’” His unnatural smile dropped as his eyes traveled across the room, “…And that’s where I met Jack…”

He paused when a flurry of anger surged in his veins, bristling him as he sat.

When he didn’t continue Angela gently prompted, “…Gabriel… What happened between the two of you?”

The question had resurfaced in her mind for many years now. The two men had been close, she knew, but she never confronted either of them about the rift within their friendship. She always wanted to hear this man’s perspective, but never found the right time to ask.

Until now.

The Blackwatch agent took a calming breath as if the warmth of his exhale would dispel the heat boiling in his core. Unfortunately, it did little to qualm the stir within him. “We were friends. Best-friends even. We trained together throughout SEP, watched each other grow day by day.

“When the time came for us to help in the Omnic Crisis, we were both given the title Commander in the barely formed Overwatch. Morrison and I lead the prototype group of agents and fought together many times.”

Ziegler nodded in understanding, having joined Overwatch when both of them held the same status. She remained quiet.

“We commanded them evenly; I focused on strategy while he gave orders on the front lines. Of course, that gave him more exposure…” The distaste for his former friend contorted his face into a shriveled scowl, “However, the UN thought Morrison was the only head of our brigade and gave him the position of Strike-Commander.”

Reyes finally looked to the woman at his side, venom visible in his darkened pupils, “And you know what the real kicker is…? Jack didn’t even correct them. He took credit for everything without batting a perfect little eyelash,” he spat sourly.

Ziegler stared at him a moment longer, contemplating this new information. “…Are you sure that’s what happened…?” she questioned tentatively. The Doctor had gotten close to both Morrison and Reyes throughout their time together, albeit she found herself drawn more to the Blackwatch Leader than his counterpart. Yet, for Jack Morrison to take credit for the entirety of their efforts seemed unlike the valiant man.

The Commander straightened from his reclined position, barely sitting on the edge of the cushion. His arms retreating back to his own personal space as he continued darkly, “Well, he did… He cast me aside, and then still wants to play goody-goody. He’s conniving. He’s always got something up his sleeve and no body knows his true colors because he’s the ‘Hero of Overwatch.’” Reyes heightened his sarcasm with air quotations.

“Gabriel,” the Doctor tried to sooth, her own hand rubbing loose circles upon his mid-back, “that might not be the case.”

The fuming man rested his elbows upon his knees, hands tightening into solid fists as he glared daggers into the carpet. “He makes you trust him, then when he’s through with you he’ll throw you to the wolves,” Reyes growled, evidently loosing himself to foreboding thoughts.

“Gabriel,” she spoke sternly, attempting to get his attention.

“That son of a bitch deserves what’s coming to him for all the bull-shit that comes out of his mouth.”

“’What’s coming to hi-?‘”

“-Dancing around with all the political power of an Overlord-“

“You’re not making sense-“

“He’ll be the death of us before the words ‘nuclear war’ can even leave his fucking lips-”

“Gabriel, STOP!” Angela shouted, grabbing his face with firm hands and forcing him to stare back at her piercing blue gaze.

 Silence.

“You need to calm down,” she ordered lowly in a caring whisper. Her thumb mindlessly caressed his scarred cheekbone. Throughout his ominous rambling, the Doctor had moved from her spot on the couch and was now kneeling in front of mentally wounded man.

After a complete minute of gazing into each other’s eyes, Gabriel’s own pair closed in acceptance. He took long, even breaths as his right hand engulfed hers where it rested on his cheek.

“...Are you sure you want to do this?” the Commander cautiously asked, giving her the option to flee before she trapped herself in the complexity of his emotional baggage.

“Of course. You act as if this is the first time I’ve seen you upset,” the smaller female jested lightheartedly, “We have been through so much together… I know how you behave in a multitude of circumstances. I cannot be scared away so easily.”

Gabriel exhaled an amused puff of air, leaning down to lightly knock their foreheads together.

“... I can tell you right now, it’ll be a shit show from here,” he whispered tiredly, drained from his internal tornado.

Her cerulean pupils closed pleasantly as she murmured back, “I guarantee it.”

The blonde’s slender arms found their way from cupping his face to snaking around his sturdy neck, while Reyes’ coiled around her skinny waist. Desperation to be as close as humanly possible fueled the male to effortlessly pull the light woman up from the ground and into his lap. The two intertwined together easily, Gabriel breathing in the scent of sanitation from the nape of her neck as Angela sank into the safety of his lean form.

They stayed snug in each other’s arms for an uncountable amount of time. At some point, the man and woman slunk from their seated positions to laying upon the length of the couch.

Angela fit perfectly curled between his chest and the black back of the sofa. Their legs became tangled unabashedly as Gabriel’s abused fingers flit softly through her straight blonde locks, savoring the silky texture against his rough fingertips. Completely relaxed, their synced breaths began to slow. Hot and cold eyes began to droop within the contentment of each other. Sleep nagged in the back of their minds, persuading them to melt into the body next to theirs.

Just this once, the Doctor could excuse a quick nap on the unfavorable piece of furniture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you all that I am a slow writer... But I never gave up! I can't promise anything, but time has now become more commonplace in my daily life. Hopefully I will be able to write more in the near future. Thank you all so much for waiting so patiently! I created Mercy and Reyes' backstories via researching as much as I could. That being said, there isn't too much on their lives before Overwatch... Hope it is at least believable! Thank you for reading!!


	14. Chapter 14

An incessant beeping is what roused the Doctor from her slumber. Her eyes slowly creaked open as her brows furrowed from the bright light of the uncurtained window. She groaned softly as she attempted to roll away from the annoying alarm, which had since stopped its whining. She barely had such a restful amount of sleep and was reluctant to return to the realm of the conscious. However as she turned she felt the bed move in tandem.

Ziegler’s azure orbs widened from their half-lidded state to look down at the mattress only to be confronted with a sturdy chest wrapped in a black muscle shirt. Looking up, the blonde saw the face of Reyes’ contorting in agitation, also awoken by the blaring. He groaned low in his chest, to the point where the female could feel the vibrations, and locked eyes with the sleepy Doctor.

The shocked woman immediately sat up, finding herself straddling his lap as pink bloomed up from her neck. Both of her hands left his pectoral muscles and went to cover her mumbling mouth and darkening cheeks. “…G-Gabriel...! I’m so sorry,” she sputtered as she evaluated their position.

Reyes couldn’t help but stare at the flustered female above him; the morning light cascaded around her figure in such a pleasing way. Her shining blonde hair looked like spun gold thread that escaped from its bundled confinement. The still worn lab coat was now wrinkled and slipping from her delicate shoulders, revealing the tight turtleneck underneath. The way her blue eyes purposely averted from his and the way her face was painted a delectable red had the older man admiring her beauty.

Gradually he sat up, towering over the seated blonde upon his thighs. A simple smirk tweaked behind his facial hair before he leaned forward to place a surprisingly gentle kiss to her forehead. “…Mornin’…” he grumbled with his voice still trapped in sleep.

The blonde tentatively reconnected eyes with the taller male, smiling underneath her slender fingers before a heartfelt laugh escaped her. His curly hair was a mess; she felt the need to slide her fingers through it to calm the unruly jungle. As she did so, she leaned closer, embarrassment leaving her in the pleasantries of the moment.

Wait.

_Morning?_

An audible gasp entered the Doctor’s her lungs. Her hands flew from Reyes’ textured hair to her jacket pocket in the blink of an eye, producing her emergency contactor.

3 missed messages.

“Scheisse…” the woman whispered the curse under her breath as she hurriedly removed herself from the male and that infernal couch.

Reyes didn’t often hear the pristine physician speak such profanities, but understood the swearwords of most languages for situations like this. She must have been taken completely off-guard by something in order to mutter the curse. “What’s up?”

The woman began collecting herself as quickly as possible while simultaneously activating the holographic panel of the communicator. “I’m late. I have never been this late in my life,” she uttered both to herself and the man questioning her. Hurriedly restyling her unkempt locks back into its normal ponytail, the uncharacteristically frantic female began scrolling through her contacts.

A video call was not the most preferable option, but it was necessary for her circumstance. As she attempted to smooth out the wrinkles on her usually crisp lab coat, the face a distressed Jack Morrison filled the screen.

The Blackwatch Commander’s whole body stiffened as he sat paralyzed on the black leather surface, out of sight of the hologram’s reach.

“Mercy, what’s going on?” the Strike-Commander greeted curtly.

“My apologizes. I lost track of time,” the Doctor returned in an even, professional tone. As if she didn’t spend the last few minutes fretting about her appearance.

Morrison sighed loudly as his shoulders dropped, “I picked you for this mission because you are reliable. Don’t disappoint me before you even get on location.” His timbre was unusually soft, but still had enough power to instill the simmer of intimidation upon a weak-willed listener.

Ziegler was nowhere near ‘weak-willed.’

“Understood. I will be at the loading docks in 10 minutes,” she supplied determinedly.

Morrison nodded in return, but his face still held the creases of worry. "I'm trusting you, Ziegler," and with that the Strike-Commander ended the brief call.

The medic released a lengthy breath before mulling over her disarray once more.

All she would need to do would be to collect her Valkyrie Swift Response Suit and Caduceus accessories. The staff was rebuilt enough for its pre-existing functions to still operate. However, she hadn’t had time to properly retest the newly constructed wings, but she had enough faith in her calculations that they were calibrated correct—

The Doctor’s rapid thoughts were cut short when she felt a large, heavy hand against her shoulder. She looked back in order to see the Commander’s darkened face as he stood directly behind her.

“…What the hell was that?” he questioned lowly.

“A video call,” was the blatant answer, spoken with monotony.

“No shit,” Reyes scoffed before his scowl deepened, “What ‘mission’ was he fucking talking about?” The Blackwatch Leader unconsciously strengthened his grip on her shoulder, adding to the severity of his words.

The Doctor easily shrugged him off as she reclaimed her black heels from the carpeted floor, floating back down to sit on the couch’s cushions as she dissuaded him. “It is nothing to be worried about. I was assigned a simple rescue mission.”

“What the fuck? When were you going to tell me about this?!” The Commander bellowed, his patience boiling over and evaporating instantly.

"I had planned to tell you last night," the Doctor informed, strapping her heels onto her feet, "but I became... distracted."

"And you were just gonna leave?" No longer able to contain the sudden influx of energy, he began pacing around the room as he ran his fingers through his tousled hair, “No, y’know what, I’m assigning myself to this mission.”

“Gabriel, you don’t need to do that.”

“'I don’t need to?’ Should I mention that the last time you were on the field you were _shot down_!”

Both persons became ridged as they soaked in this fact.

The female’s face steeled, an expert of hiding troublesome emotions. “...I am well aware.”

The uncomfortable atmosphere became suffocating.

Reyes cupped his own face and roughly rubbed the tension there. “…Shit…” his muffled mutter was barely comprehensible.

_Great job, Gabe. Make her remember her fucking injuries. Fuck._

After taking a second to compose himself, he drew closer before kneeling down in front of the stone-faced Doctor where she sat. “…I didn’t mean to bring that up. Its just…” he paused for a moment trying to find the proper words as he took her well-manicured hand into his, “Its just that you’re… really important to me. What happened last time… I… I lost it.” His dark eyes seemed to lose even more color as he thought back to the rage and hurt of witnessing a near-death Angela. “I don’t want that to happen again.”

Ziegler sighed in defeat, gripping his larger palm with both of hers. “I understand your fears. I do,” She took a small pause, choosing her words carefully, “With our career choice, it is highly likely that severe injuries will ail us in the future. But, be assured that I will take every precaution to make sure I remain safe.”

They maintained eye contact as another pause befell them. A secondary conversation full of reassurance and openness occurred but was not spoken.

After what felt like an eternity, the Blackwatch agent nodded in reluctant acceptance. Gently, her brought her unmarred knuckles to his lips, the sensitive flesh brushing against her smooth skin as he murmured, “I trust you. Its the other fuckers I don’t trust…” His smoldering brown eyes once again met analyzing blue, “So, I’m still assigning myself to this mission. I can protect you better than those shitheads ever could.”

Ziegler looked at him with mild confusion, observing the intensity of his eyes. “…I don’t need protection,” the Doctor stated as her back straightened, “I’m just there to mend the damage.”

The man’s mind was forcibly wrenched back into the whirlpool of times past. Times of a dark room lit only by a super computer and of a velvety voice heightened with a French accent.

_Your tiny medic didn’t stand much of a chance… And she still doesn’t._

Reyes immediately tightened the once gentle grip on her hands.

“Just… let me do this, okay?”

Sensing that there was no persuading him otherwise, the first-responder nodded. She leaned forward to press a tender kiss to his cheek then murmured, “…We should get ready then. We were supposed to be on the loading dock an hour ago.”

 

 

Mercy corrected her breastplate while aboard the airship, reattaching straps that were haphazardly fastened in her haste. She glanced out the window finding miles and miles of vast savanna; on the horizon she could see the plumes of smoke that indicated their destination. ‘The City of Harmony’ was where Captain Amari was last spotted. Their highly advanced Intel couldn’t be wrong. Ana had survived their last mission. She knew it.

With a deep breath, the Doctor tried to calm via pumping her fists methodically. Now was not the time to get distracted. It was the time to get the job done. Her current job was to help those affected by the bombings. Other than that, nothing else should occupy her mind.

“Need help, Doc?”

The low voice, stole her attention from the meditative exercises. However, the sound of the familiar timbre soothed her more than any other attempts.

“Commander Reyes,” she greeted as if this was the first she had seen him all day. It was imperative that they remain professional while in public. They wanted to keep their relationship private and any odd behavior would lead people to speculate.

“We are almost on point,” he notified, “It must be hard to hook on your wings by yourself.”

The First-Responder allowed a small smile to slip past her previously somber expression due to his thoughtfulness. “Indeed, I would not mind the extra assistance.”

The Blackwatch Commander approached, picking the appendages up from their spot on the table and attaching them to the backing system with little instruction. They remained quiet, allowing this moment of peace before the storm of devastation surrounded them.

Reyes lingered behind her even after the task was completed. His dark gloves sliding down her back as he leaned close to whisper softly in her ear. “I’ll be with you the whole time... Even if you can’t see me, I’m there.”

The Commander watched as Ziegler released the shuddered breath she had subconsciously been holding. Of course he knew about her inner turmoil, even when she was an expert at hiding it.

Even from herself.

The medic always had a great sense of emotional control; externally she looked cool, calm and collected. If they hadn’t spent years together, he most likely wouldn’t have been able to tell that something was bothering her. It’s true that her physical trauma had long since healed, but her mental trauma was now showing its true colors.

Due to their proximity, he could feel her physically relax after his words of encouragement.

“…I hope I’m not interrupting something.”

The deep growl of a voice jolted the two from their caring position. Both looked to see the Gorillan Scientist standing in the doorway of the airship’s compartment.

_Shit. Of course Winston had to interrupt now…_

Reyes pulled away from Ziegler and started heading to the door that the monkey had just entered from. “No,” was his curt reply, “We should be landing soon, everyone gear up.” Before exiting completely, the Commander linked eyes with the female, reassurance present in the little contact before he disappeared.

Mercy gave a small sigh before looking out of the window once more, taking in one more last look at the horrific black clouds. It was only a matter of time before such chaos would overwhelm them.

“Commander Reyes may be as blunt as ever, but he is right,” Winston persuaded her away from the beginnings of tangling thoughts.

“…Indeed,” the Doctor confirmed, shaking herself from her stupor and turning back to her fellow scientist, “Winston, I will need your strength against the rubble. It is quite possible civilians have been trapped underneath the many fallen buildings.”

“Understood. Although there is a Commander on this team, you are still in leadership of this mission, Doctor,” the ape informed her of his loyalties.

The Strike-Commander entrusted this mission to her since she is the Head of Medical Research and the best first-responder of the organization. It was only logical that she would lead her team of medics into the rescue area. Other than her group of five personnel, Winston and now Reyes were assigned.

Mercy straightened her spine and realigned her shoulders before also heading to the landing door. “…Then let us begin,”

 

 

“There are more over here!” yelled the highly intelligent ape as he investigated yet another partially collapsed buildings.

The destruction was too much for the blossoming city. The new civilization of Numbani took terrible damage from the devastating bombs. It seems the terrorists had succeeded in their objective, spreading fear through violence in the refugee hotspot.

The streets were full of corpses and injured alike, and the Overwatch Team assisted every single one. They were now scouting for survivors in the many ruined buildings, locating those who were trapped within the rubble.

Locking onto Winston’s frame, the woman flew over to the mouth of a hole where a wall once stood. Once she reached him, they both stumbled over the unsteady debris leading to the darkened cave of concrete. The sight of a family of five huddled behind a large metal beam was barely visible via the streaks of sunlight peeking through.

“Stay where you are. We are here to help,” the angel spoke in a firm yet comforting tone, her words lured hope onto the survivors’ formerly dreary faces.

With a shared look and small nod, Winston approached the bent iron in its containing position. In a show of enormous strength, he pushed aside the fallen remains allowing enough space for a human to get through.

The Doctor gave an appreciative smile before sliding into the blackened room, having to fold her wings in the process. To the civilians, the blonde looked as angelic as a messiah with the light of hope surrounding her form.

“Is anyone severely injured?” she questioned, immediately down to business but still holding the timbre of concern.

The mother of the group rushed forward carrying a small boy in her arms, no older than three. He had a large gash from shoulder to wrist, almost enough to expose the bone. Due to his near unconsciousness, Ziegler determined he must have lost a fair amount of blood.

“…P-please!” the woman spoke with a heavy Igbo accent, clearly desperate to save her son.

Without a moment to loose, the medic drew her staff and quickly healed the child, watching as the fibers stitched flesh back onto his limb. She nodded at her handy work, before suggesting, “We must hurry, these conditions are unsafe.”

Once she received a nod of urgency from the mother followed by a string of praise, Mercy efficiently escorted each member out of the cramped room one by one. Successfully relieving Winston of the daunting task of entryway maintenance.

Now that the party of five was out into the sunlit streets she could see other worrisome injuries littering the group. As the family all hugged each other and shower their saviors with thanks, one of the other scouting field medics ran over to assist the survivors.

With a professional and even tone, the Head of Medical Research turned to the teammate approaching. “Please escort them to the medical tent. The responders there will be able to treat them further, after which continue your search.” The newly recruited medic nodded in understanding before supporting the oldest daughter as she tried to walk on a grade-three sprained ankle.

Turning her attention back to Winston, Ziegler spoke again, “We need to keep moving, I am certain there are many more in similar positions.”

“Understood,” The scientist confirmed before he launched himself upward, latching onto the remains of a once tall tower. Mercy continued on foot, investigating the lower ground for any other signs of human life.

The conditions were one of the worst she had seen. Black smoke flitted up into the air, painting the peeking sunlight a darkened orange. The broken streets resembled the crumbling city, the heart of sanctuary corrupt with chaos.

Throughout their hours rescuing those in need, Reyes had kept his promise. The blonde hadn’t even seen him since they left the airship. Most likely he was checking back alleyways for any casualties. The man always preferred to work alone. However, the angel would periodically sense that someone was watching her. It wasn’t the normal icy chill down her spine, but more like the assurance of a protective presence. A security blanket that smothered her rising anxiety and gave her the drive to focus on the injured.

Movement in her left peripherals pulled her back to the task at hand. Mercy turned to the source of moment, but by the time she centered her field of vision it had stopped. The Doctor allowed her Valkyrie Suit to do a quick scan of the landscape, but was unable to pick up any heat signatures.

_Odd…_

Worst-case scenario, the person had already become deceased, but even then they would have some residual warmth until the elements had their way with the body. The woman hastily reigned in her negative thoughts then stepped closer to the crumbling infrastructure. Either way it was imperative that she found the innocent life, still breathing or not.

As she began to inspect the area of interest, the cautious female discovered a large pile of rubble displaced near the intersection of two buildings. Underneath the rocky pile, she was able to see tattered clothing.

“Winston, I need your help!” the Doctor called with urgency as she rushed forward to lift as many hunks of rock as possible. “You are going to be alright, I’ve got you,” she stated calmly, reclaiming her wits.

She felt the tremor of the earth as her Gorillan counterpart landed slightly behind her. After greeting each other with meaningful eye contact, the male attempted to clear away the crushing concrete alongside the female. As they continued to remove boulders, something caught the surgeon’s attention: a metallic limb.

_Perhaps they are an amputee. This is a city full of war refugees, after all._

Two metallic limbs.

_A double amputee…?_

Removing one final boulder, the pair discovered a whole human frame made completely of steel.

A tiny gasp entered the physician's lungs. “…An Omnic,” she whispered, eyes going wide in surprise.

The two teammates immediately glanced at each other before returning their gaze back to the metallic body in front of them.

The artificial intelligence laid upon even more broken pieces of building, its exoskeleton crushed in several places upon its torso. The consciousness lights upon its forehead were blinking, signaling forced shutdown. The generator core upon its chest seemed seriously damaged, attempting to reboot but failing.

Ziegler slowly approached, kneeling in front of the robot.

“Doctor Ziegler… That might not be a wise choice…” Winston warned hesitantly.

The first responder looked back to her fellow scientist, who unsurprisingly kept his distance.

“Is it wise for a Doctor to leave a patient in critical condition?” she rebutted sharply.

“…No… But according to my calculations, 89% of Omnics world wide participated in the Omnic Crisis. It would be safest to continue looking for other survivors.”

Mercy’s face immediately contorted into a scowl, “This is a civilian unit. It is highly unlikely that it will try to attack, especially in its state.”

The female physician knew enough about cybernetics to help the robotic form in front of her, it would just take a little bit of time. Mercy tightened her grip on her Caduceus staff, cursing herself that her nanotechnology was only suited for flesh.

She would have to fix that in the future.

“Well… Yes… but Morrison specified that humans were the only ones to be rescued.”

The ape meant well, only trying to follow orders and keep the team’s safety as a priority. However, the blatant disregard for life was something that the Doctor couldn’t stand for. Even if that life was ‘artificial,’ it was still a living being.

“The Strike-Commander may have assigned this mission, but he has given full leadership to me.” Mercy straightened her back as she spoke in a clipped authoritative tone, similar to the one she uses in the operating room. “I will not allow a single life to be lost if I have the power to stop it.”

The Doctor immediately began to work, investigating the power module. The sternum plate was completely fractured to the point of jutting into the side of the generator, similar to a broken rib puncturing a vital organ. Although the damage was critical, it would be possible to fix. However, it did not take long for the blonde to realize she didn’t have the necessary equipment to rectify such an injury.

Sighing in frustration, Ziegler reluctantly turned back to the scientist behind her. “Winston, I need to get this Omnic to the medical tent. I might be able to construct a temporary remedy there, but I cannot carry them myself… Would you please help me save this Omnic’s life?”

The Gorilla looked uncertain, averting his eyes as he thought deeply. After a brief moment of silence, he returned her gaze with a softer one. “…Alright.”

Mercy’s smile was the most tender she had shown all day. Gratitude light up her face and filled her voice, “…Thank you.”

The two quickly yet carefully slung the steel body onto the ape’s back, heading once again back to the makeshift hospital on the outskirts of the wreckage. The Angel stayed to Winston’s side, making sure that the Omnic stayed centered as they walked with a steady arm upon the both of them.

After a few minutes of their B-line, Mercy heard the roar of a low flying aircraft directly above. A looming shadow cast over the town already covered in black.

Its wingspan was too large to be an airship; she hadn’t even requested more medical supplies—

_…Those aren’t reinforcements._

“Take cover!” she cried just as a compartment opened from the bottom of the plane, releasing another barrage of bombs onto the already decimated town.

In their panic, Winston and Mercy veered in different directions. The Doctor ran to the nearest building, which had already suffered from the previous explosions, while Winston carried the Omnic behind a toppled over car.

Adrenaline pumped through her bloodstream, encouraging her to move faster. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, her breath coming short with sudden panic. She was just outside of the shield the half-wall when the capsule hit the road, immediately exploding.

As soon as the blast hit Mercy was thrown forward, the force knocking her to the ground inside the hollowed out building.

Her ears rang deafeningly loud.

Her vision doubling and even tripling at certain moments.

She attempted to shake away the daze, but was left incapacitated upon the cracked concrete.

While attempting to regain her scrambled thoughts, she saw a figure dashing toward her. It took longer than necessary to realize it was Gabriel. He dropped down to kneel beside her as she remained lying on her stomach. She saw his lips moving, but wasn’t able to hear anything other than the overbearingly high-pitched screech.

Gradually, her visual and auditory functions began to return to her. She took in her surroundings.

Reyes had somehow lifted her to a sitting position and was pushing back her bangs in order to see her face. Technically observing her eyes, trying to tell if they were overly dilated, which they most likely were. The street she was just standing on was encapsulated with fire, consuming anything that would catch. The frames of the building they were forced inside of was starting to bend, concerningly so. The Doctor could feel the rumble as the groaning ceiling began to cave in above them.

The whole structure was collapsing.

Before she was able to react, Reyes immediately pushed her back down into the rough floor and covered her lithe form with his own. Successfully shielding her from any of the falling rock with his own. Screwing her eyes shut, she reached up to cradle the man’s head as he lay atop of her, bracing them both for impact.

The pair stayed in that position until the vibrations decreased to tremors then stopped all together.

When she opened her eyes again she was met once again with black. The Doctor blinked a few times before realizing that the sunlight had been completely obscured by the ruins.

Slowly, the couple pulled away from each other and attempted to gather their bearings.

“…Gabriel… are you alright?” she asked into the darkness, unable to observe his condition.

Thankfully she was greeted with a noncommittal groan, “…Yeah… How about you?”

“Non-life threatened. My body is still attempting to get over the shock from the explosion.”

After a brief pause, the gravity of their situation began to weigh upon them.

“Damn, I can’t see shit…” The Commander growled.

Hearing this dilemma aloud caused a solution to flicker within the Doctor’s mind. Wordlessly the blonde allows her wings to open to their full wingspan, a warm golden glow emanating from them to illuminate the small space.

“…That’ll work.”

They attempt to stand, but Reyes was just tall enough that he has to duck his head in order to not hit it against the low ‘ceiling.’

Both man and woman cautiously began to scout the area with the little light she is able to provide.

A few feet away the medic spotted the glint of her Caduceus staff underneath a layer of pebbles, but from what she could determine, unharmed. Carefully the physician moved to retrieve it, the unstable ground full of broken building. Ruined walls surrounded them while glass shards from shattered windows glistened upon the floor and innocent looking dust particles fluttered in the air around them.

The Doctor’s eyes widened.

“Stop breathing.”

“…What?”

“Gabriel,” her tone was clipped, “Stop. Breathing.”

Reyes looked at her in confusion, but did as told. She could see how his chest remained motionless even in the dim light. As efficiently as she could, Ziegler took the front of her half-skirt and unceremoniously ripped the ombre fabric into two long slender strips.

“Tie this around your nose and mouth,” she instructed while handing him the piece of ruined skirt.

Hesitantly he did as told, eyeing her the whole time, “Why am I doing this?”

“The particles in the air are extremely dangerous for your lungs. These buildings are not well constructed due to low funds of the newly forming city. Within the walls are hazardous materials and when the building collapsed they were released into the air. We have already taken in quite a bit, I will need to do a proper examination once we get back to Head Quarters,” She explained as she began tying the other strip around her own face.

Reyes nodded, understanding her brief explanation. “Okay, then a measly piece of fabric isn’t gonna help much for something like this.”

“No, but we don’t really have anything else,” Mercy confirmed as she bent down to retrieve her discarded staff. “The best course of action would be to get to an open area. The air is far more contaminated in secluded spaces.”

"...Copy that," Reyes muttered unenthusiastically as he pressed a firm hand upon the walls surrounding them. It took a moment, but the male found where they once entered. Ten tons of brick lay in front of their only entryway. He gave a hard push to the pile of rubble, but not even a pebble fell out of place.

“…Shit…” The dark-haired man murmured before turning back to the Angel, “Looks like we’re gonna have to find another exit.”

The Doctor hesitantly approached, examining the immobile boulders while dread climbed up her stomach and nestled into her chest, “So that means…”

They were trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50,000 words... I don't think I've ever written so much in my life! Thank you all for staying with this story, I really appreciate it! This chapter only took me a month to put together instead of two like the last few updates. Yay, for improvement! Anywho, I always try to put little details that relate to cannon and this one is full of them! Let me know in the comments if you find them all :D Thanks again for reading!!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: drastic actions taken due to depression and grief.

With only the dim glow of gold to light their way, the two Overwatch operatives began searching the walls that confined them.

Running his gloved hands between crevices, Reyes began replaying the events that had just transpired. As typical on the field, it happened in an instant.

He was on the other side of the street, hidden in the shadows of a back alley. On patrol for both injured citizens and the woman whom had captured his affection. He couldn’t allow the medic to be on this mission with no other support.

Yeah, she had Winston, but the monkey wasn’t the best under pressure and his temper was even more fragile than his own. If he accidentally hurt her, there would be hell to pay.

There were too many things that could go wrong on this mission. The only person you could trust is yourself.

Suddenly, Mercy called out. Then an explosion.

Instinctually, the Blackwatch Commander ducked further back into the alleyway for shelter, but quickly realized that Angela was still in the fray. After regaining his senses, the Commander suddenly ran into the smoke filled streets, only to find the medic had been tossed into the remnants of the closest building.

Seeing the blonde splayed out on the ground doused the male in an ocean of nightmarish déjà vu. Panic enveloped him as he dove through the overwhelming waters to reach the medic, kneeling beside her.

At least this time she was conscious. Dazed, but conscious.

Reyes assisted her back to a sitting position and asked the standard questions. Are you hurt? How many fingers am I holding up? What the fuck happened? The usual. But it was very apparent that she had trouble concentrating.

_Shit,_ he should be doing that now.

_Focus on an exit strategy, dumbass. You can piss your life away later._

With the Angel examining the opposing wall, it was difficult to see. However, he could feel the absence of rock near the bottom of the cavern.

“Hey, I got something,” Reyes called, cloth muffling his words as it stayed upon the lower half of his face. “I need a light.”

Ziegler quickly clamored her way over crumbling rock in order to reach where the Commander was. He was kneeling near a small hole held open by a slanted piece of barely intact wall. The space was nearly large enough for a medium sized dog.

“It’ll be tight, but it’s our best shot for getting outta here,” the male elaborated, looking to the woman to gauge her reaction.

The physician began inspecting the unconstructed opening, testing that the jagged boulders would remain in place. She could most-likely pass through without too much trouble, but Reyes’ broad shoulders may be a problem.

“…I’ll have to fold my wings in order to fit through,” the Doctor stated, “we will be in the dark for quite a while. Please use caution.”

“Gotcha.”

The gentleman allowed the blonde to go in first; she had a better chance of making it through if the structure started to collapse again. Trapping her behind his larger frame would get them both killed. They needed to take the option with the highest chance of survival.

Unceremoniously, the angel closed her wings, plunging the two into darkness. Positioning themselves on their stomachs they began to crawl through the space, reaching blindly forward as their only guiding sense. Labored grunts and sharp points scratching against armor were the only noises made as they dragged themselves through the tiny opening.

After painstakingly crawling into the unknown, the walls dispersed to signal that they had made it out of the previous cave and into a new one.

Carefully the Doctor stood and allowed her wings to once again unfurl, allowing the warm glow of hope to cascade over the room. With the extra light, Reyes was able to escape the potential death trap much quicker. The Commander joined her in a standing position, satisfied that the space was large enough for his full height.

Once again the two examined the room, they were now in an abandoned office building. Nothing but torn cubicles, scattered papers and broken computers littered the room. Yet, there were still no windows, which, in turn, meant no exit.

“Looks like we are gonna have to keep searching. There has to be an opening somewhere,” the Blackwatch Commander theorized as he dusted himself off, “Be on your guard for more falling rocks. With how much damage this building has taken, its only a matter of time before it collapses completely.”

The female nodded in confirmation, worry lines creasing her brows.

He was right, the longer they stay here the more likely it was that the structure would crush them. To add insult to injury, the air was still contaminated from what she could see. The only solution to their increasing amount of problems was to escape within the unknown time limit.

Her heels clicked against the tiled floor as she side stepped around patches of fallen ceiling and toppled over desks. The apocalyptic view of the deserted office gave the Doctor’s spine chills, imaging her own hospital torn apart by war. Venturing further into the room, she caught sight of a off-center doorway on the opposing wall from where they entered.

“Gabriel,” she called out, trying to grab his attention as he was cautiously stepping over rubble, “door, 2 o’clock.”

As she passed one of the upright desks in order to reach their possible salvation, the subtle light from her wings glinted off of a rectangular object. The reflective quality was enough to gather the medic’s attention. Ziegler gradually drew closer to the desk after a brief pause. It was best to obtain any useful materials that may aid their escape. 

Thanks to her proximity, she determined the item to be a cracked picture frame that had toppled over face-first.

Hesitantly the blonde reached for it. Brushing aside the broken pieces of glass, the physician brought it closer to her face to get a better view in the dim lighting she provided. She was able to see an attractive younger couple upon their wedding day, both smiling blissfully at the camera while crushing a bouquet of roses between their bodies.

“Angela, what’s wrong?” Reyes questioned when he realized his companion had ceased walking. He was still near their makeshift entryway, moving a bit slower. The Commander proceeding with caution to examine the terrain for more hazards.

“Nothing... I just got a bit distracted is all,” was her softened reply, however she felt similar to a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. She kept her levelheaded demeanor as she placed the photograph back onto the desk in an upright position.

_Stay focused. It is imperative that we leave as hastily as possible._

Right as she turned away from memories that weren’t her own, she heard the smallest of whispers. Freezing in her boots, the medic pivoted back to the desk that had just lost her attention. Upon closer inspection of the furniture itself, she could see a pair of brown loafers peeking out underneath.

A quick mouthful of cloth brushed against her tongue via her hastened gasp. The physician dropped to the floor fast enough to appear as if she were tugged by the person below her.

“Hey! What’s going on?” the medic barely processed the words of Reyes’ demand; she had more pressing matters at hand.

With the help of her wings, she was able to see that an adult male was curled up underneath the desk, murmuring to himself. A good look at his face informed the Doctor that he was the same man from the picture, only a few years older than the bright-eyed boy within the frame.

“Sir,” she stated firmly to get him to look at her. The man remained staring at the wooden wall of his confined space. “Sir, are you alright? Where are you injured?”

“…….she’s gone,…” the blonde heard the man whisper weakly to himself, his cheeks stained with tear tracks long since dried. “…She didn’t make it past the first raid….”

The medic could see that he was fading, his eyes were becoming duller by the second and his shoulders were starting to slump even more against the desk’s frame. Yet, there didn’t seem to be a pool of crimson staining the tiled floor like she expected, he must have used this desk for cover throughout the turmoil.

“Sir, you need to stay with me,” the female informed in a cool tone, yet the man seemed to be drifting further and further from consciousness. Upon a quick scan from her Valkyrie suit, she could see that his heart rate was slowing exponentially.

She needed to keep him talking.

“…What was her name?” she tried a different approach. Her voice was comforting and sweet as she hurriedly tried to find the source of his ailments. It would be unwise to move him before she could diagnosis his symptoms.

This question brought the barest of smiles onto his face, “…Daraja.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” the Doctor complimented genuinely.

The man nodded in agreement, his smile still resting on his lips but he grew weaker still.

She was loosing him.

“I am going to feel your chest, alright?” the Doctor warned before applying pressure to several areas of his torso, to which she gain no response. “May I know how you two met?” she prodded further.

“…We met…here. At work. She’s the most…” his voice began to waver with emotion, “…the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen… S-She was suppose to come… to the office today… but she felt… sick… decided… to stay home… I called her… r-right after the first bombs… but…” tears began to streak down his face, renewing the path of the already dried tracks.

There seemed to be nothing wrong with any of his vital organs. No contusions. Perhaps the shock was inducing a heart attack? But only half of the symptoms were matching his. “..but?” Ziegler persuaded him to continue.

“Daraja,… she is such a strong woman… She answered the phone… She… said she was hurt… I didn't... know what to do... I talked with her… until the line went silent….”

The angel’s gut filled with the swirls of grief, giving her pause from her ministrations. She connected eyes with the distraught man, “My condolences.” Hurriedly, she began working again. When she touched his hand for a pulse, she felt that his fingers were ice cold despite the desert climate.

“I told her… it would be okay… that she would… get help soon… but it didn’t…come…”

He didn’t seem to be in any physical pain, which is odd for his circumstances. Locking onto his low heat signature, Mercy attempted another scan.

“…so now… I’m going to see her… again,…” his slurred voice continued as he lethargically revealed a bottle no longer full of pain medication.

...What?

How could she have been so blind? Yes, he was concealing the pills in his curled up position, but she still should have noticed the symptoms right away.

“No,…” the whisper barely left her lips, “Sir?”

His eyes were drooping closed. He couldn’t even hear her anymore.

“Sir!” she cried, clutching his shoulder to remove him from under the desk. “Please stay with me! Tell me able Daraja.” Her voice became more and more desperate.

Silence.

She had no idea how long ago he had taken the medication, but with the low amount ringing within the empty bottle, it seemed to already be in full effect. It was already in his bloodstream.

The Doctor quickly raised her Caduceus staff, aiming it at the limp form in front of her. However, as soon as she was about the pull the trigger, clarity came to her.

Her research would not be able to recognize the pain medication as harmful. It is constantly surrounded by that molecular structure. Maybe she could reprogram it before-...

By the time she had made this realization, it was too late.

His critical levels had decreased to zero.

His heart had completely stopped.

 

Ziegler stayed kneeling on the floor for an uncountable amount of time. Her breathing ragged due to the toll shock was taking on her body. She continued to stare at the corpse in front of her.

Within this time, Reyes had miraculously appeared behind her, also kneeling as he placed a hand on her low back. Not knowing what to say, he just stayed beside her.

After another lengthy pause, Angela finally spoke, “…Time of death: 14:52pm. Cause: …Suicide.”

Once she had spoken the deceased officially dead, Reyes rubbed his gloved hand against her polished armor as he muttered, “…We should keep moving.”

Ziegler nodded in agreement, no emotions peeking through her perfectly crafted exterior. The Blackwatch Commander grunted as he helped the physician off the dirt and glass filled floor.

Their journey remained quiet as they exited the office, letting the door close behind them to seal the somber tomb.

The pair had found themselves in a long hallway, obstructed with bent frames and half-collapsed walls. The ominous creaking of the unstable structure kept both man and woman on edge as they walked side by side in careful silence. The Doctor kept her Valkyrie Suit’s scanner up, checking vigilantly through each crevice and copy room they passed.

She should have known.

Due to the man’s distress and grief, she should have known that suicide could have been an option. She was just too naïve. Holding onto idealisms that were too far fetched to be realistic.

A gunshot wound, no problem. A collapsing lungs, she could patch that up in an hour. But _suicide_. No. She was no use it seemed.

After not picking up any signs of life while ducking and weaving through ruin, she heard the telltale alarm of a critical signal nearby. The medic stiffened as azure eyes flitted for the source.

Not in the closet they just passed.

That hole could possibly house a person.

Maybe there was someone outside this building who needed assistance.

“Gabriel, there seems to be a—“

Turning to regard the man next to her, she was surprised to find him a few meters behind her. His tall form had crumped to the filthy ground, clutching his side in a vice grip and breathing heavily. The Commander had even torn off the cloth covering since it had inhibited his oxygen intake.

Ice pierced her heart, causing color to drain from her face.

“Gabriel?!” she cried in alarm as she rushed over to him, throwing herself to the floor in front of him. She quickly grabbed his sweat-coated face in both of her gloved hands, silently pleading for him to look at her. Their eyes connected. She could see the stress of their situation clearly swimming within his orbs along with the pain he was trying to subdue.

Quickly the physician’s eyes flew to his right side, replacing one of his hands with her own. She applied the standard amount of pressure to which he grimaced, an audible intake of breath entered through his teeth.

Good. At least this time she got a reaction.

Hastily she pulled up his sweatshirt, needing to visually examine the injury.

Reyes remained silent as she went through the procedures, convincing her that he was fine seemed unlikely...Especially in light of recent events…

Upon removal of all clothing, she could see that blood had been pooling, barely contained behind thin skin. The enormous blotches and bruises were colored a deep red and violet and were growing in size steadily.

“…You are bleeding internally. Most likely from when the building initially collapsed. You took the brunt of the impact for me,” the medic stated. She was not assuming the source of his injuries, it was factual. Ziegler wasted no time in raising her Caduceus staff to his injury and pulling the trigger, healing him in silence.

Once she replaced the shirt over the freshly mended wound, her icy eyes reconnected with his. “…Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her tone was flat.

She was furious.

The angel had the patience of a saint. Yes, she would get frustrated or annoyed but her anger was always passive. She never outwardly showed her ire. Even when Reyes was at his worst.

The Commander was taken aback at the new emotion, staring blankly at the woman.

“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me?” She repeated, voice rising louder with each word.

“…I didn’t know it was serious.” He returned lamely.

“Gabriel, people die of internal bleeding. If you had any pain you should have told me immediately. I am a _healer_ , Verdamnit!” She pulled down the cloth over her own mouth to give him a piece of her mind properly. “No one else has a staff that can heal a patient in real time, and yet you want to keep your injuries a secret until it is too late. What if we had separated and you collapsed without me here? What if my staff had broken again and I wasn’t able to use my nanotechnology? What if I had to sit here are watch the life drain out of you? Do you want to die?!” She all but yelled, tears began to sting her eyes as emotion flooded over her.

She stared at him a moment longer before lowering her head and whispering to herself, “…why would anyone choose to die?”

Ziegler knew full-heartedly that she was taking her frustrations out on Reyes. The high stress circumstances they were in were now boiling over, no longer able to contain them.

Not knowing what to say, the taller male gently pulled the woman into an embrace. Just holding her as she regained her composure.

After a long silence, he spoke softly and somewhat awkwardly, “…I know this has been hell. It’s your first mission back on the field and it’s been nothing but a shit-show… But we’ll get outta this, okay?”

The Doctor nodded slowly into his shoulder before murmuring, “…thank yo—“ she was then cut off by a stream of coughing. Quickly she pulled away from him, replacing the torn cloth over her mouth and nose as her shoulders shook with withheld coughs.

The air was still highly contaminated.

They had been careless.

“Cover your face.” She instructed, “…Please.” The polite request tacked onto her demand exposed the blonde’s vulnerability. She cared for him deeply and with all of the complications they had had this mission. Reyes had given her a roller coaster of fear.

He did as told. As much as the Blackwatch Operative didn't want to admit it, he also started to feel a scratch in his throat.

“We have to keep moving,” he ordered as he stood, completely healed.

Mercy followed his lead, collecting her staff and continuing down the long, unforgiving pathway.

 

 

 

Another hour passed in silence. Both person’s throats were dry and scratchy, talking and even breathing cause the slightest bit of pain. The cloth covering their faces had expended its use and had even become a nuisance. All the good it did them was hindering their air intake. However, it was still wiser to keep the fabric upon their mouths. It was slowly becoming more and more laborious to trudge on as they climbed and ducked endlessly through broken pieces of building.

The pair looked through each and every room they encountered; yet they were only met with cement caverns. Occasionally, the walls would groan, alerting them that time was running short.

As they turned yet another corner, the tiniest steak of light peaked through the boulders resting at the end of the broken hallway.

Sunlight.

Hope.

The two shared a glance before surging forward, inspecting their highest possibility for escape. They still needed Mercy’s wings to illuminate their path considering how weak the shy light was. A pile of concrete stood before them, Reyes examined the haphazardly built wall, silently assessing the amount of force needed to create their exit.

The rocks concealing their escape were large and sturdy, even with both of their strengths it would take an eternity to move. And they sure as hell didn’t have an eternity.

Wracking his brain for more options, he tried to get inventory on all of their resources. They didn’t have much… Only her staff, their weapons and extra ammo.

An epiphany entered Reyes’ brain; hurriedly he took the extra shotgun shells off of his belt. He only had six rounds left but that would be enough. The Commander unlatched each cylinder from his hip, and began disassembling them. Upon opening a single round of ammo, he deposited the now loose gunpowder strategically upon the crumpled pile in front of them.

“What are you doing?” the Doctor inquired as he continued to busy himself.

“Getting us outta here,” He retorted as the male even unloaded a single gun, treating the ammunition like the others. Tossing all of the empty shells on the ground haphazardly.

With all of his resources splayed upon the rock wall, the Blackwatch Operative turned back to the Medic. “This tactic is a bit risky, but we’re outta options. I’m gonna blast the wall. Since the building is already unstable, its might fall down on us. I soon as I shoot, we run. Got it?”

Ziegler nodded, trust evident in her steady gaze, “Understood.”

The pair stepped back a few yards, Reyes stood in front of Ziegler. Once again shielding her from the blast incase things went awry. Rising up the only loaded twin shotgun, the male aimed for the center of the pile of rocks and gunpowder. Glancing back at the female behind him, he gave a single nod to signal her. A silent, _get ready_.

Locking his gaze back onto his target, the Blackwatch operative exhaled and shot.

Immediately there was a moderate sized explosion full of gunpowder and debris. The forced threw open the wall much like a wooden door, but also caused rumbling around the two agents. As hypothesized, the building was coming down.

Rushing forward, the man and woman ran for the newly created exit as cement chunks began to rain down around them.

“Move, Move, Move!” Reyes called out as he raced forward, throwing himself out of the falling structure.

Mercy followed suit, jumping out right as a metal beam collapsed behind her, sealing up their exit once again. The half-standing building was now nothing more than a mess of concrete and iron beams.

The impact of a building falling caused the earth to quake underneath them. The ruined streets began to split, large crevices and cracks engulfing them in strange patterns. Without even enough time to blink, the medic felt gravity yanking her downwards.

“ANGELA!” was all she heard before all other sound was drowned out from pieces of street plunging into water.

The grey sky was replaced with snippets of blue.

Her gloved hands reached through the air, hoping to find purchase.

She could feel her abdomen ache with a gunshot that wasn’t there.

She was falling.

_No._

_Calm Down._

The Angel closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as her lungs welcomed clean air.

After her split-second of panic, the woman opened her wings to their true wingspan. Her Valkyrie suit worked as it should, catching her mid-fall and slowly lowering her to the wet floor below.

Once her boots touched solid, albeit rocky, ground, the Medic allowed the fear she was holding at bay to pass through her. Her heart thundered in her chest. Her breath became short. Her knees felt like wooden joints locked together.

Taking a moment, she began to count.

_Eins._

_Zwei._

_Drei._

“Angela!” she heard the rough yell from above.

Upon inspection, the Doctor saw the Blackwatch Commander peeking over the edge of broken concrete.

“I am fine,” she returned to his call, finally taking a look around to where she ended up.

The only light was what was cast from the hole she just fell through. However, she could make out a long tunnel with running water, struggling to squeeze through the debris now clogging its once steady stream. She must have landed in the sewer systems.

“If you stay on the ledge, I can lock onto your heat signature and fly out of here,” she informed as she began programming the VSRS to do exactly that. Yet, out of her peripherals the medic was able to catch a glimpse of blue from the dim light.

Ziegler's instincts were on high alert as she immediately glared at the odd object found in such a dank place. A shadowy, slumped-over figure was merely two meters away from the blonde. With a long intake of breath, The Doctor approached as she once again used her wings as a light source.

“Doc, what the hell are you doing?” she heard Reyes’ displeasure as she disappeared from his sight.

Too preoccupied with her findings, she did not answer.

The Medic saw a body that was marred and scorched nearly to the bone. Her heart seized at the view of this tortured humanoid. The stench of burnt flesh almost made the woman gag if not for the thin cloth still gracing her face.

_Female._

_Muscularly Built._

Kneeling in front of the deceased, she tried to get a better look at her face. The skin was burned so badly this poor soul was unrecognizable, yet she could tell that a previous injury had made her right eye unusable.

The clothing covering the corpse was also burned by the touch of flame. However, the stark, blue fabric was eerily familiar. Continuing to inspect the military grade trench coat, she saw the half-formed emblem of Overwatch upon the left shoulder.

No.

She knew who wore this coat. Few were allowed to dawn its weight. Only the Strike-Commander and second in command could—

Frigid blood shot through her veins despite the humidity of the air.

_No. That couldn’t be right. There had to be some mistake._

Yanking open the faded fabric, a single piece of paper drifted out of its inside pocket.

Ziegler paused, staring at the rectangle as it laid face down in the grit of the sewer floor. Slowly, the physician’s trembling hand reached for the scrap. Bringing it closer to herself, she stared at the blank back. Slightly charred on the edges but not damaged. Upon turning it over, Angela felt shattered glass fill her chest, scrapping up her throat with each breath.

It was a picture of a mother and child.

A smiling Fareeha and Ana looked back at her.

The splashes of footsteps couldn’t even return her to the present.

“The monkey went to get reinforcements. Now, what the fu—” the Commander’s words halted when he saw the angel and her counterpart.

Ever so slowly, the Doctor rose. Still staring at the body of her friend and mentor.

“…Captain Ana Amari,” she declared, but her voice was much too shaky. Mercy took a moment to clear her throat, willing away the cotton engulfing it. Willing away the water that wasn’t coming from the stream behind her. “… Time of death:…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mercy is not doing great... I gave you all fluff for a reason. Crazy to think that I've been writing this fic for a whole year now! I started this project on a whim, but I have gotten so many lovely comments and feedback to this fanfiction. I am forever grateful!! On another note, I apologize for how long this chapter took. It seems that two months is now my standard update time... Sorry about that. I just take forever to write. Thank you again for your support and love!!!


	16. Chapter 16

“Are you sure that’s what you saw?”

The good Doctor looked pale, well paler than her usual fair skinned shine. Her jaw remained clenched but she kept her gaze steady, giving off her ever-present aura of calm. However, the woman's slender legs and arms were crossed where she sat. Thanks to years of interrogations, both men recognized that her body language insisted she was closing herself off.

“Yes, Strike-Commander,” The physician answered coolly, “Captain Ana Amari was found within the sewer systems of Numbani. Due to the flammable gases, which reside in those tunnel systems, it is likely that the bombings were the cause of death. Why she was in the Sewers is unknown, but it could be possible that she was attempting to hide from Talon search parties.”

Reyes continued to observe the Doctor as she spoke. There was a somber glint in her eyes that hadn’t disappeared since they'd returned to headquarters.

It had already been three days.

Upon arrival, the physician barricaded herself in her office, not letting anyone in or out. Not even himself… It was just like the stubborn woman to face emotional trauma alone, busying herself in her work.

When the blonde female was called into the Jackass’ office to give a mission report, Reyes, of course, barged his way into the meeting. There was no way in hell he was leaving Angela to fend off the big, bad dumbass by herself. Especially after the shitshow they just went through…

“And you’re sure there is no way Amari could have possibly survived?” the star pupil asked as soon as she was finished.

“She just told you, dipshit,” Reyes couldn’t help but intrude when he saw the Doctor’s fists clench in her lap.

“Gabe...” the Leader of Overwatch forced his gaze over the rebellious Commander, whom he had been ignoring up till this point, “Need I remind you that you’re presence here is not necessary? The only reason I allowed you into this room is because you were a witness on the field.”

“Oh, so I’m just a—“

“Commander Reyes. Please control yourself,” the woman to his right warned with a hardened expression before turning her attention back to the higher up. “Yes, sir. I have undergone many tests to confirm the identity of Captain Amari. The wounds upon the corpse were the same as the Captain’s when she was last seen, the little hair samples I could obtain matched the DNA signature I have on record, and…” the Doctor took a breath, as she reached into her lab coat’s pocket and retrieved the damaged picture. “…This photograph was found on the body…”

The physician slid the rectangular piece of paper containing a smiling mother and child toward the man in front of her. Morrison slowly reached for it, bringing it closer to his face, which instantly wrinkled. He placed the picture back onto the table as he took a moment to steel himself. “I see…” looking back to the Doctor, he cleared his throat, “Thank you for your work, Dr. Ziegler. I will release an official statement to honor the late Captain.”

“Strike-Commander,” the female nearly interrupted him, “Could you please wait until the family members have been notified before you make a public announcement?”

Morrison looked started at the polite woman’s bluntness before nodding in return, “…You do have a point.” The Overwatch Leader then pressed a switch underneath the desk’s top. “Athena, please notify McCree to come to my office. It should be his turn to watch Fareeha.”

“Yes, Strike-Commander: Jack Morrison” was the robotic reply from overhead. There was a brief pause before the AI once again spoke, “Your message has been sent to Blackwatch Operative: Jesse McCree’s communicator.”

“Thank you, that’s all,” the man dismissed before switching off the computer’s ears.

Out of the corner of his eye, Reyes could see the Doctor stiffen and sit further on the edge of her seat. Her flickering blue eyes told the Blackwatch Operative that she was debating what the best course of action would be. Ultimately, she decided to speak.

“With all due respect, I do not believe you have the tact to tell a family member that their loved one is now deceased. I have experience in that regard,” the Doctor insisted stoically, “Please allow me to tell Fareeha.”

“Mercy…” Morrison heaved a heavy sigh has he leaned back in his chair, dropping the façade of ‘Strike-Commander’ as his tone changed to something more exasperated, “Since Ana wasn’t your patient, I can’t allow you to give out classified information in good conscience… I’m sorry.”

“With all _dis_ respect, you just want to wipe your ass in the name of being valiant.” Reyes jabbed at the man sitting across from him with sharp eyes.

“Gabe, this is serious,” The blonde male visibly straightened, matching the other man’s heated gaze.

“I am being serious. The Doc only wanted to smooth things over, but you have your heart set on fucking everything up. Go ahead, be my guest.”

“What is _wrong_ with you?”

“Wrong? Oh, nothing. I just can’t stand around all day looking pretty like some people.”

“This is not the time to pick a fight.”

“I’m not picking a fight, I’m stating a fact.”

“If you continue behaving like a child, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“I wanna see you try to force me out of this room.” At this point, Reyes risen from his chair to a standing position. He placed a hand on the table’s surface, rearing up to jump over the piece of furniture if need be.

The Strike-Commander also stood, not yielding by the darker skinned man’s attempt at dominance.

“Gabriel, _please_ ,” the stern feminine voice of the Doctor penetrated the tension between the two men. Methodically the female physician rose from her chair, reprimanding both men with her stare alone. “If you two cannot stay in the same room for ten minutes, then I suggest you distance yourselves from one another until you are able to converse civilly.”

Both men reluctantly relented, one controlling himself easily while the other stewed in his anger.

“…I’m sorry, Mercy. We were out of line, “ Morrison expressed as he sat back in his seat.

The Doctor nodded curtly, accepting his apology, “Now, if you will excuse me, I will take my leave.” Ziegler turned from the table, not even giving Reyes a glance as she strode to the door.

Both the Blackwatch and Overwatch Leaders watched the female physician leave in silence.

Suffocating tension resumed.

After a moment of stifled purgatory, a long sigh once again sounded, breathing oxygen back into the room.

“Gabe…” Morrison addressed his old friend as he rubbed his rapidly aging face, “What happened to us?”

Reyes continued to stare at the door that the highly-trained medic had just left through, not turning around for the likes of him. “Don’t pull that shit… Like I have anything to do with this.” The darker skinned man straightened his bulletproof vest as he followed the pathway to the door. “We’re done. Have been for a while.”

With that the Blackwatch Commander left the Strike-Commander to his solitude.

 

 

 

“Angela,” the male called out, finally catching up to the woman throughout the winding hallways of the central building.

“Commander Reyes,” the physician returned, slicing through his attempt of familiarity, “Please refrain from referring to me by my first name outside of private affairs.”

“Fuck that. I need to talk to you.” The man said before stepping closer, as his voice got lower in volume and pitch, “…You okay?”

“I’m fine,” the Doctor replied quickly, taking a step back in turn. Ensuring the dance of escaping emotions, “Thank you for your concern.”

“I’m more than ‘concerned.’ I’m fucking worried about you. You’ve just holed yourself up in your office. I tried to visit you, but Athena wouldn’t let me in.”

“That is because I did not want you to come in.” Her eyes were solid ice, rigid and unreadable.

“Angela…” After a moment of containing his frustration, he stepped forward again but this time gently taking her forearm in his calloused hand. Mustering a soft whisper, “…For once, I don’t know what you’re thinking… Tell me…”

An uncertain pause burdened the two.

The vulnerability the male was showing was uncomfortable, but he would force himself to show her a glimpse of the inner workings of his mind. If only to get a word of truth from the young woman.

Instantly, like the icebergs spoken of in legends, the ice of her eyes could no longer withstand the weight of his heated gaze. Irises cracked before the cold slid into the depths of her frozen expression. Melting along with the pull of gravity, a subtle chill wracked her solid form, causing the excess water to threaten to spill. He could see she wanted to talk to him in the way her pupils grew light with the sudden loss of weight. He could see the all of the nightmares that had been plaguing her in the purple darkness buried under the sea of her eyes. He could see the crumbling structure she had hardened around herself fall for him and him only. She opened her lips to speak—

“Mercy!!” the overjoyed, high-pitched voice of the youngest person on base sounded through the hallway. Accompanied by gruffness and the jingle of spurs, “Hold on now, pardner!”

The Doctor’s orbs immediately darkened, sinking back into the safety of grey emotions.

“Fareeha,” she greeted with the first smile after a weeklong hibernation. However, the tweak of her lips was so small and weak that one could not even correlate the expression with happiness. She no longer dared to make eye contact with the Commander.

The small child ran up to the physician with arms extended, trapping the blonde’s hips in an embrace as their usual greeting. Reyes watched the woman’s smile break upon impact before she plastered a new, plastic one on.

By this time, McCree had caught up to the spritely girl and assumed a place right next to his higher-up. “Howdy, Boss,” the cowboy smirked as he gave a two fingered salute against the rim of his hat.

The older male huffed a small, “Hey” in return. He watched as the smaller Amari began to babble about her adventures to the medic who listened patiently.

The country bumpkin lips grew taut into a juvenile pout, as if he were the youngest in the hallway. “You’re not gonna give me a ‘you look well’ or a ‘nice ta see ya?’”

Reyes had to admit the childish man did look better; more rejuvenated than last he’d seen. But he would be damned if he ever gave this boy a heartfelt compliment.

“If you’re doing so well, why haven’t I seen you on the field?”

Another, less devilish, smirk graced McCree’s face, giving him almost a somber expression for a millisecond before it brightened once again.

A subtlety the Commander didn’t miss.

“The Doc’s got me in physical therapy,” the scruffy male stated matter-of-factly as he raised his left arm for his leader to see, “Boy howdy, is she a fast worker.”

Reyes was quick to notice the appendage the male donned was different. No longer a prototype, the metal arm was polished and decorated to his liking. The Doctor had no time to make the cybernetic before they left for the mission. She must of finished the project once they got back... Which means the cowboy must have seen the blonde before him to get fitted.

A slight urge to hit the innocent farmhand began to sting in Reyes’ chest.

“’Course, it ain't all bad.” McCree returned his attention to the two ladies, “I get ta watch Fareeha while off-duty.”

The rugged man’s face was alight with joy as he watched the young girl with a lopsided grin.

He always did have a soft spot for kids.

The former rebel sauntered forward, “Heya, Doc. Ya should’a seen this lil’ tike on the track today.” He placed his artificial hand upon the smaller girl’s head, ruffling her hair affectionately. “She was jumpin’ round like a bullfrog in June!”

“I am sure you were wonderful,” Angela’s voice was the gentlest he’s heard in a week, “But you must always be careful. I would hate for you to injure yourself.” Her tone suddenly switched to something lower, as if she were scolding the child instead of warning.

Fahreea’s cheeks puffed into an adolescent pout, “I wooon’t! I was only jumping around, because I wanted to feel like I was flying…” her small mouth spread into a bright smile, “Just like you!”

The Commander’s eyes immediately flickered to the physician’s. He could see the bittersweet sensation filling up inside her.

They shared the same thought: this girl’s innocence didn’t deserve to be crushed so soon.

“…Is that so?” Ziegler’s voice was weak at first, but after she cleared her throat, it came back in full, “I am touched, Fareeha.”

The Doctor tenderly ran her delicate fingers through the raven colored hair in front of her.

“Ooh, Ooh! We also played a prank on Torbjorn today!”

The woman’s ice returned as she quickly glared at McCree, assuming he had everything to do with this child’s corruption.

“Hey! Don’t look at me! She’s the mastermind behind it!” He tried to defend himself with his arms up in surrender.

The younger Amari giggled, not denying this fact.

Ziegler sighed as she returned her attention to Fareeha, “And what did you do this time?”

“Nothing bad! We just taped a plastic claw to his normal hand when he was dozing off.”

McCree spit a barely contained laugh as he recalled the memory, “His face was as red as a pickup!” the cowboy cackled before giving the girl a high-five to which she eagerly returned.

“He was so mad, he started yelling in gibberish!”

The Blackwatch Leader could easily imagine the dwarfish man waking to the sight of a stupid kids toy strapped to his flesh, then immediately yelling up a storm in his native language.

“Fareeha! You need to be respectful of everyone on base,” the Doctor warned as she placed her hands on her hips in a visible display of displeasure. “Each of us has an incredibly important job here.”

“I know, I know…” she replied with a pre-pubescent cross of her arms, “…Jeez you sound just like Mum…”

 

The air immediately became heavy, the spacious hallway suddenly feeling as cramped as a storage room. Both men exchanged a glance while the blonde tried to keep her crumbling expression from falling on the floor.

“Oh… I apologize.” Ziegler’s voice was tired, unnaturally gravelly.

Now, Fahreea wasn’t stupid.

She was old enough to tell the atmosphere had changed. The sudden nose-dive of Angela’s demeanor sparked a tilt of her head.

“Y-You don’t need to be sorry!” The young Amari hurriedly tried to correct to her unknown mistake, never seeing her idol in such a way.

Dark eyes immediately fell upon blue. Reyes could see the remnants of her shattered emotions within murky pupils.

Frozen time was restarted by the strong Dr. Angela Ziegler knelt in front of Fareeha Amari, humbling herself for the girl. Quickly, she yanked the child into an embrace, arms trembling, as they huddled on the floor.

“… _I’m so sorry_ …” the broken woman’s voice was as light as air, but bore the weight of the past few months within.

The two men watched a confused Fareeha return the hug, and bury her face in Angela’s shoulder.

A few minutes passed and not a breath was heard.

“Mercy…?” the girl mumbled softly, still trapped within long arms, “…You’re kinda crushing me.”

“Oh...!” that was all that Ziegler needed to snap out of her state, hastily pulling away, “…That was... rash of me.”

“Its okay…” the raven-haired girl smiled sweetly, but could still tell something was amiss.

McCreesquatted to join the two females, holding out a hand for Fahreea to take, “…Hey, kiddo… We need ta get goin’…” His normal jovial tone was long gone, replaced with a tentative rumble, “…Jack’s awaitin’...”

“Right,” The blonde stood with the both of them, straightening her lab coat, “I must be off as well.” She looked down to the child, placing a gentle hand on her tiny shoulder. “If you ever need me, I am always here…” were her parting words before she walked down the remainder of the hallway with head held high, not sparing anyone else a glance.

Reyes initial instinct was to go after her, but his comrade stopped him before he could even complete a step.

“You best be goin’ too… Gotta get ready ‘fore tomorra…”

“Tomorrow?” the Commander questioned lowly.

“Yea, everyone’s been in a tizzy fer that lil’ shindig.” The cowboy reiterated, smiling down to the child whose hand he was still holding.

“…Shit…” the older man breathed through is teeth.

He’d completely forgotten about the annual UN Banquet. Overwatch Headquarters had become the central meeting place for the United Nations in recent years. When they would meet for their general assembly, Overwatch would host a banquet to start off their session. Hopefully, releasing some of the political tensions of ambassadors before they would start tearing through each other in debates.

The Blackwatch Commander had gone from mission to mission for the past three months and didn’t have time for anything else… Well, other than the one thing he _made_ time for…

“Language!” McCree mocked in faux shock as he dramatically covered Fahreea’s ears, making the girl laugh.

Reyes’ gave the country bumpkin a side-eye before passing the two in the opposite direction from where the Doctor left, “Alright, smartass. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Be seein’ you, Jefe,” the younger man smirked before a distant, racing challenge to Jack’s Office was made.

 

 

 

The Blackwatch Commander sighed as he entered the locker room, removing his ever-present bulletproof vest as he shuffled over to his unit. He was in desperate need of blowing off some steam after hours of tedious, last-minute planning and this was the simplest way to do it. Although he preferred to work out in the late hours of the night when no one else was around, he was out of options. If another crisis were to happened, he would explode.

The stewing male stripped himself of any unnecessary clothing, leaving him in his black undershirt along with his normal pants and boots. Grabbing the roll of bandages he kept in his locker, the man exited the secluded locker room and entered into the main training facility. Leisurely, he wrapped his dry, calloused knuckles as he found himself the punching bag way in the back, hoping to have at least a little bit of privacy.

He was left in solitude as he began to let loose a fury of blows. However after an ample time of vigorous jabs and kicks, he was surprised to find two hands support his bag on the opposite side. Both appendages elaborate, polished metal.

The Blackwatch Leader, paused mid punch. No Omnics were allowed anywhere in the training grounds, especially when target practice with open weapons was located in the room next-door. The human male cautiously glanced around the large sand-bag to be confronted with a steel frame sparkling with green accents. Yet, a human face peeked out from the cybernetic body.

“Commander Reyes,” the metal man greeted with a familiar voice and a polite bow.

“…Genji,” the darker skinned man returned in mild confusion.

“Yes,” the newly upgraded cyborg replied, “You are confused with my new appearance.”

“…What’s with the costume change?”

No longer was the human flesh of his chest exposed nor the long tendrils of circuits connecting to the back of his head. The man of Japanese decent now had a full breast plate, hell a whole body, of sleek metal with circular cutout of illuminated green. He looked cleaner, more put together than the Commander had ever seen. Mentally and physically.

“You know that green isn’t in uniform,” the Blackwatch Leader commented curtly as he resumed his assault on the weighted bag, not paying the man any sort of pleasantries.

“Yes,” Genji agreed, serious as ever, “However, that is exactly what I want to talk to you about.”

“Black, Grey and minimal Reds,” the darker skinned man continued; as per their usual conversations they always stayed surface level. The cyborg wasn’t curious about the Commander’s previous life, nor was Reyes about his. They stuck to mission information and short greetings, so for Genji to initiate contact was unusual. “You’re gonna have a hard time on stealth missions with all those lights.”

“I understand,” the Japanese male confirmed, “but that will not be an issue…“

_Hmph... He must have high confidence in his skills._

“What caused the sudden need for an upgrade?” Reyes spoke again, “Your old look wasn’t bad.”

“The Doctor suggested that I look less threatening.”

“The Doc, huh?" Reyes grunted with another blow to the clothed sand.

Yet another person who had seen Angela before him... Another hit. Left hook. Side kick.

"Intimidation is a valuable asset in our line of work,” Reyes stated as he continued to jab at the piece of equipment, “I know you only do reconnaissance, but I think you’d also do well with interrogations.”

“Thank you, Commander, but training me will no longer be necessary,” Genji stated as he stooped into a deep bow, “I must leave Blackwatch.”

The Leader of said organization halted his actions abruptly, breath trapped in his lungs from the sudden blow of information. He straighten himself from his battle stance before staring down at the man intently; the cyborg lingered in the low bow of respect.

“…Excuse me?”

“I must leave Blackwatch,” the Japanese male repeated his words, chest still parallel to the floor.

“…Come with me,” was all the Commander ordered before simply turning on his heel and walking away from his task and his operative.

This was not a conversation to have in public.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no update... I'm a little past my two month deadline, so I apologize for that. But I'm happy that this chapter is done! I always struggle with Reyes' perspective... Once again, this chapter has a lot of information that needs to get settled. But may I just say, the retribution event has me so excited! Reyes looks incredible and his voice always makes me swoon. I will try to incorporate the new info bomb blizzard has just detonated on top of us, but that will come later! Thank you for being patient and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think of this chapter! Also, feel free to follow [my tumblr blog](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/candiedconstellations) for updates and announcements (as well as random artwork)!!


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